Beastliness in the Rhubarb Sheds

(i)
I got up at an hour that's not funny
And left the arms of my saucy, doe-eyed wench
(Also known as the Caramel Bunny).
Yes Sir, getting out of that bed was a wrench.

I met the new YTS guy at the gate.
He was just as weird as I'd feared.
He smelt of chip fat, had a balding pate
And last night's treacle sponge in his beard.


(ii)
Sucking on Uncle Joe's Mint Balls,
We headed for the sheds.
Pylons buzzed in the chill November air.
The rain sputtered like guttering candles.
I knew something was wrong
As soon as I unlocked the first door.
I shone my torch into all four corners,
Saw a dozen curled up hedgehogs,
Like overdone Scotch eggs with spines.
Like Morlock guardians of a rhubarb mine.
Suddenly the shed blazed into light.
We blinked like ravers, recovering our sight
After a drum 'n' bass all-nighter.

A boombastic voice came out of nowhere,
As sinister as the Mysterons.
What nonsense it talked!
It spoke of how their race
Had crossed oceans of time,
Traversed aeons of space,
And all the while they had been watching us:
How we forced the crimson stalks.
Now it was our turn to be forced
To do their inscrutable bidding.
I shouted out "No way man,
You've got to be kidding!"

As if in a trance,
We moved like puppets made to dance.
Without a backwards glance or thought
We then cavorted for their sport.
We cast off our jerkins,
Were made to don merkins
And portray great lovers down the centuries.
To think of it makes my blood freeze.
There was fighting, flirting and flagellation
And things best left to the imagination.


(iii)
The Caramel Bunny
Sits and waits by the phone
But if she'd seen what I've seen
And done what I've done,
Then she could never come home.

B.R. 26/09/2013