by Jim Jepps

Long, long ago last Tuesday,
there was a woman from Cambridge.
She was made of burnished gold.
Half of the town hated her.
They said things like;
“oh, you’re blinding me”
“stop dazzling us” and
“stop being made of gold”

They also said things like;
“You’re so greedy keeping that gold to yourself,”
“Think of all the people who are made of shit.”
“Why don’t you give away your golden limbs,
“(like any decent person would)?”
This was distressing.
She said she would if she could,
but she was *made* of gold, it wasn’t disposable income.

All that was in her pockets was fluff
and dice and a small mouse (called Henry).
They didn’t believe her,
because these people never do.
They said “oh, you’re so petty-bourgeois”
and she gasped so audibly that people twitched,
because that was the worst thing it was possible to be called.
It was very unfair.

There was woman from Cambridge,
who was made of burnished gold.
Her friends would clap when she appeared.
They said “oh you light up every room you’re in
“and sometimes the room next to the one you’re in
“although it would unrealistic to expect you
“to light up the room next to that one as well.
“That’s not a criticism, obviously.”

Putting on their dark glasses they said,
“We love how dazzling you are
“and we love you for that love we feel.”
The woman made of gold was warmed by her friends
but could not love them as much as her Henry mouse,
despite the fact that he would poo in her pocket
and didn’t have much to say about her finer qualities.
He was low maintenance though and that was much appreciated.