The Singing Fish

The singing fish upon the wall
With dulcet tones emits its call:
   A love-song to the rubber duck,
   A buxom bird he’d like to [Quack!].
Alas, his chances are but small.

The lustful notes do not enthral;
On scornful ears they sadly fall
   And fail to speed, despite his pluck,
The singing fish.

The sweetest music can’t install
Tender warmth in a soul of gall,
   But, mounted fast, the suitor’s stuck
   And can’t swim off – what rotten luck!
Romantic ditties now appal
The singing fish.


4 thoughts on “The Singing Fish

  1. There’s a suirfeit of singing fish at my local junkshop.

    Evidently there’s only so many times you can hear a carp sing “Don’t Worry Be Happy” before the experience begins to pall.

    I wish the fish in your poem all the luck in the world.

    It’s touring touring touring at the moment which is very good but we could do with a few roadies these days. I never thought I’d hear myself say that.

    Luckily we’ve come up with a show that can fit in a small car with the 3 of us – the first time that’s happened in 33 years of touring. 3 middle-aged men and a 30′ long python : there’s no Freudian subtext in that whatsoever..


  2. It’s been mainly around the UK with a few weekends in Ireland and France – next month there are trips to Belgium, Holland and Germany. No exotic or unchartered territory.this year – maybe Macau and Australia next year will compensate though I’ll believe it when I see it.

    How’s Korea?


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