Gleanings From The Cutting Room Floor Liquids Part 2 Poem by Tom Billsborough

WATERING HOLES

'Oi, waiter, there's a crocodile in my soup, ' she complained snappily.
'Sorry m'am, I tell them till I'm blue in the face. Clear the swamp
BEFORE you ladle out the soup, ' he replied murkily.

'Now, what was it, sir? Two PINTS of bourbon? ' the barman asked wryly.

'No, madam, we don't serve kangaroo. They never sit still, ' he explained rather jumpily.

'These meat balls, yesterday they were huge. These two are tiny.
What's going on? Ah sometimes ze bull wins, senor, ' the waiter
replied roundly.

'What you mean? All you have is Gin? ' the customer cried spiritedly.
'It is a Gin Palace, sir, ' the barman pointed out gingerly.

'Waiter, a wasp has crawled in my soup! '
The waiter looked down:
'No, sir, that's the butterfly. He's not learnt the crawl yet, ' he
replied somewhat stingingly.

'Water! Water! ' he cried as he burst into the Oasis.
'Sorry, sir, water only for Camels. A soft drink, perhaps, ' the Bedouin replied cordially.

'Rum, waiter! '
'Jamaica, ' the waiter answered jokily.
'Not yet, but I'm working on it, ' he replied, looking at the blonde, craftily.
'I'd stick to the rum, sir, ' the waiter advised, measuredly.
'How's that? ' asked the punter.
'It's the only thing you'll be getting down tonight, sir, ' the waiter replied S- nickeringly.


'Sorry, everyone. Meat's off tonight, ' the Waiter said, apologetically. 'Just soup left.'
'How come? ' they all cried, questioningly.
'The Owner's dogs ate it all, ' the waiter replied, somewhat gruffly..
'Those dogs have ruined our evening, ' cried one of the girls: 'Catastrophically'