The blood boils
Face reddens
Kettle head and whistle blow
Lids rattle and roll,
Scumbag Humbug !
Old man temper bubbles with disbelief.

Redder and redder
Incredulous foaming mouth.
Vicar teeth plus yellow ochre
Sure to burst and weaken slow
Death's last laugh at the angry codger.
Scumbag humbug !

In the slow of the slowing afternoon
When the nap siesta folds
The furrowed brow of the angry man
The breathing slows with curtain drawn
And dreams of god knows what transport
The tired head to rest
With anger postponed for a breath.

Locked away in the deepest hole
Is the key of the secret thought
That holds the frame
Of this stooped
Perspiring human
Upright to an extent.
This is all a blustering act
To keep the spiders and their cobwebs of doom
From weaving their tacky nests
All over the weasly body
Of the old man.
Scumbag humbug !