Getting Quite Late Poem by Terry Collett

Shall I tell you what
he tried to do? Well
now let me see in what
order it went. He took

me out, and it was some
show he said I'd like,
and it wasn't bad, but
I've seen better, and well

one has to accommodate
men sometimes, I mean
sometimes they can get
quite moody, but anyway

I went to this show, and
put on my happy face, and
let him see I was enjoying
myself, when really I was

bored out of my mind, but
nonetheless afterwards he
took me to this posh, and
I mean, posh restaurant,

and pulled out the chair
for me, and I sat, and he
sat, and then he gawked
at the menu, and a waiter

gave me one, and I gawked
too, and those prices, they
were high higher than my
mother's skirts, and he

looked at it like it was
nothing, and I wide-eyed
them looking for the least
expensive, and no Martha

he said pick what you want,
and I did, and so did he, and
after a short while it, meals
came, like first course, and

second course, and then third
course, after which I was
nigh full, and ready for my
bed to sleep, and then after

taking me home, he said: can
I have coffee? I said sure
come on up and in, and I guess
he took that to mean more

than was meant, and well
after five minutes, yes five
minutes, he was all over
me like a snowfall, a big

hairy snowfall, and I had
to put him right, and he
was not please, and anyway
after a minute or two fuming

he settled down, and had
his coffee straight, and then
said goodnight and went, after
all, it was getting quite late.