[A poem inspired by this story about British TV comedy presenter Russell Brand seducing 'rock chick' Courtney Love]
"Roll up, roll up, you gullible swines,"
Said the ragged Dickensian fop.
With his face like a rot-ridden spider plant,
I could see no incentive to stop.
"Excuse me," he grinned, as I tried to slip by,
"But aren't you the girl out of Hole?"
Then spouted a pun on this fact so filthy
I felt myself losing control.
"Listen you creep," I snarled in rage,
"Where the hell do you get off?
With your drainpipe jeans and messy black thatch,
You're nothing but a sex-crazed goth."
But then this Brand gave a wave of his hand
In a mystical magic maneouvre.
And cleared my head of all that I'd read
Of his unsavoury acts with a Hoover.
The beast transformed right before my eyes
To a Byronesque liquorice love god.
With caustic wit and untamed hair
Like a 21st Century Ken Dodd.
We rocked the hotel bed all night,
I was Spungen to his Vicious.
Then I tied a cravat round his big fat mouth
To mark this strange Brand 'delicious'.
tags: courtney love russell brand byron sid vicious delicious ken dodd