Stepney, seven PM
Meek Drew meets gentle Beth.
He resembles Dexter Fletcher,
her eyes gelled green
she’s Renne Zellweger meets Betty Spencer
svelte yet sexless.
Hey sweets, he creeps
pets her tender flesh
pecks her sherbet cheek
she merely tee-hee-hees
then screeches Feed me Drew!
They enter The Ten Bells
where he spends freely
he gets beer,
she Red Cherry Reef (the effervescent refreshment)
they select entrees,
then the beef.
She tells Drew she seeks self-betterment
she’s well zen
she stretches, extends, stresses, bends every week
Ten secs per stretch! she tweet-tweets.
Drew detests her self-betterment
he swerves the cheerless speech
tells her the new Merc’s very speedy.
She clenches her teeth,
eggy, yet reserved.
Then plebs enter The Ten Bells
Beth gets testy.
Beth’s meek. She’s never met plebs.
She’s never met rebels, sheepbreeders, serfs.
Jeez, Beth’s never even seen Bez.
The wretched DJ peddles the cheesy dregs the plebs respect
the beery lechers get wrecked, then enter senselessness.
They explete freely, they spew phelgm
they sneeze, less Kleenex.
Beth eyes them –
greedy geezers, Ellen Degeneres-y femmes.
Her cheer depletes keenly
She resents the seedy jerks, the sexy chests,
Drew’s mettle’s tested.
See, Beth’s never felt seedy,
Beth’s never felt greedy,
Beth prefers her sphere teeny-weeny,
her Eden serpent free.
The plebs spy Beth’s repelled leer
they send her the V
Heckled, The Meek jet
Stepney’s been sleeted
Drew bleep-bleeps the new Merc