Adolf Hitler

was peeved that Germany was littler

than Russia. He didn’t invent the walkie-talkie. But proudly,

he invented the marchie-shoutie.


Osama bin Laden

at the turn of the millennium achieved stardom,

one of his finest hours,

when he may or may not have knocked down the twin towers.


Charles Bukowski

didn’t always have a house key

and was usually sunk

in a depression and drunk.


Erich Maria Remarque

wrote that trench warfare was no amusement park,

before giving Marlene Dietrich and Greta Garbo a good shunt.

It was never “All Quiet on the Breasts and Cunt”.


Aphra Behn

poured the following “satire” of John Dryden out of her pen:

“John Dryden has a wife who’ll widen her legs for a strawberry milkshake.

And he’s a Catholic dick-cake.”


Gary Glitter

would not have made a good babysitter


he was the paedo, he was the paedo, he was the paedo in the ring, he was.


Alan Turing

cracked the Enigma code and saved countless lives during

World War Two, but they locked him away

and cut his balls off because he was gay.


Edmund Clerihew Bentley

you might imagine was mentally

ill – he invented a poetic form that’s rather amiss

and sounds a bit like this.





© Gammon 2020
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