World Cup Poetry - "There's a Lunatic Shouting at the Telly"

Written by David Lockyer Sunday, 13 June 2010 20:55

England World Cup Blog

It's not just betting, squad previews, ringtones and player profiles on A2bworldcup - we have poetry too!

We present Poet David Lockyer's first World Cup poem exclusive to a2bworldcup.com

 There’s a Lunatic Shouting at the Telly

There’s a lunatic shouting at the telly

An alien monster in our living room

It’s face is puce, its gestures gibbon

I think Mum’s gone off for the broom.

There’s a madman fisting at the Telly

Apoplectically the opposite of calm

Having lost it good and proper

He’ll do himself some permanent harm

If not to bone or muscle

If not to blood vessel bursting through skin

Then right in the solar plexus

Of his lost it loony bin.

There’s a nutter yelling at the telly

Whatever it is, he’s got it bad

Redecorating the room with swear words

Hold on! I think it’s my Dad.

He seems a bit upset, well.... very

His team’s unable to score

He’s saying something rude about the referee

A description I’ve not heard before.

Now he’s stamping his feet with rage

Behaving like a capacity crowd

Though I can’t see what he’s worked up about

Their goals been disallowed.

Oh, he’s sat back down finally

Seems to have got the message at last

He’s worked out there’s still no score

So he’s stopped his counter blast.
 
 

No... he’s off again, we’re one up

Our right defender took his chance

Now Dad’s practising his version

Of contortionist  St Vitas Dance.

The house vibrates to his actions

Beautiful? It’s a dangerous game!

He’s either dementedly happy or dementedly mad

And they appear to be exactly the same.

For there’s a lunatic shouting at the telly

An alien monster in our living room

His face is puce, his gestures gibbon like

I think Mum’s gone off for the broom. 

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