Inspired, of course, by the stupid song by the wersels this poem grew and grew until it was moderaratly tall. But not all people who are tall have good poems. Here it is.
I�ve got a brand new combine harvester
In the range it's at the top
I�ve got a brand new combine harvester
But I�ve got no crop
My farm had aches of wheat,
Which was cut by scythe�
A lad harvested all my fields
Saying �work experience is shite�
If only I had put down for something else� he said
Halfway through the job,
At least it helps with my co-ordination�
He claimed before he cut his foot off
I�m not feeling well� he complained
Then he cried out painfully
His tool had slipped again
Damaged a vital part of his anatomy
As he rolled in agony,
Saw tattoos of Jehovah and a David star,
�I know what you do after birth� I say
�But I think you�ve taken your religion too far�
�Your fired!� I yelled angrily
And the victim blushes
�I�ll do it myself�, I say
It�ll be cheaper than some crutches
Wasted kilo joules of energy of KJ
Abbreviations are here to stay
Could have done the rest myself
But I just CBA
All that work was tiring
And I need to rest my feet
�I�ll get a machine to do it� I think
�Then I can go to sleep.�
And so I set to shop around
Just looking for the cheapest
I haven�t won the lotto yet
So my pockets aren�t the deepest
Looked around for a while
Then a local I ask and stop
He gives me directions to
The cheap combine harvester shop
Got my machine from there
Looked as sound as British beef
�I�ve sold something� the owner cried
Then smiled in disbelief
A strange device with caterpillar tracks
Looked extremely hard to park
Inside it had a million switches
But still it wouldn�t start
�What do you think this is?� I asked
Then started to complain,
�It hasn�t got a petrol tank�
�How am I meant to get it home?�
�What�s that writing?� I asked
And he said it was Russian
�There�s no petrol tank� he explained
��cos converted Tanks use plutonium�
I�ve got a brand new combine harvester
Or turns out, mobile bomb
Tax and MOT for a year
Insurance is a problem
After all the arguments
A tow back is the decision
A journey with a pile of junk
Causing the odd evacuation
Sat in the barn for months
And there it was meant to stay
Combine stood there peacefully
When fertilisers stolen by the IRA
The new work placement lad
Thought he was the best
�I can drive that combine thing�
Even though he�d failed his test
Drove past loads of pigs
�They sit around all day� he thought
Didn�t know hat soon there�d be
A lot of flying pork
Drove past a dung heap
On which a sunbathing cow was sat
�Nice weather today� the lad thought
But soon it�d be raining BSE and crap
The engine seemed fragile
And carbon rods were old
�Seems safe enough� the lad thought
Then hit a pot hole
Ate a load of fungus
And it gave me piles
Looked over my field to see
A mushroom different style
I had a brand new combine harvester
It was not ideal
Got the remains of my combine harvester
But only half a field
Potatoes a funny shape that year
And carrots up in smoke
Never buy a combine harvester
From that Rasputin Romanov bloke
Went to the farmers advice stand
While at the royal show
Told him my problems and he said simply
�Farming is not for you�
And so I got a different job
With a different set of wheels
Ended up driving busses
Got turned down at sellofield
May 96