PARTY TIME

I went to a party, a noisy affair,
The host introduced me to a 'Flapper' called Clare.

Built like a brick out-house a helluver size,
What put me right off, was her 'come-to-bed' eyes.

I was there at her mercy, and she was Brahms and Liszt,
It was during the hand-shake that she broke my wrist.

She said "We'll try this new dance", I was in for a shock,
I only came up to the 'hem' of her frock.

With the noise of the band, and the pain in my arm,
I was sure that my partner was raised on a farm.

Have you danced 'The half-Nelson?' (one I don't recommend),
I hoped that the skirmish would very soon end.

When they carried me out into the fresh air,
I was glad to be rid of the mountain named Clare.

You could see the extent of the damage inflicted,
Not only the use of my arms were restricted.

I felt that my neck had come out of its socket,
Somehow my left foot was in my back pocket.

Don't mention 'Party' I'll not go there again,
I heard that Clare's wrestling somewhere in Spain.

With bones that were broken, it hurts when I cough,
They say I'll be right when the plaster comes off.


©Bill Austin