319 – Bowl Cut Barry

Poem number 319
.
Bowl Cut Barry
.
Bowl Cut Barry was his name
He sold from door to door
Cloths and polish were his game
And mops to clean the floor
He’d speak to lonely wives and mums
And flatter them with smarm
Whilst eyeing up their boobs and bums
And dialling up his charm.
.
But Barry was an ugly sod
His patter didn’t work –
He thought himself a sexy God
But they thought him a berk
He never sold a cloth or mop
He never pulled a wife
So at last from underneath his top
He pulled a massive knife.
.
He thought he’d get his end away
With threats instead of guile
But instead, I’m very glad to say
The housewife simply smiled
Before showing him an Uzi
That she’d hid behind her back
She said “Hi, my name is Susie
And I’m giving you the sack.”
.
She pulled the trigger several times
And killed him, then and there:
Bowl Cut Barry, dirty slime
Was dead, and no one cared.
Remember this, my selling sons
Remember and behave,
For housewives have machine-guns
And they’ll send you to your grave.

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