To My Girl From the North Country

My chorizo is like a giant, pulsing spaceship
My wriggling squids are on fire
May gentle sciroccos waft you home
On gossamer wings
To my saffron and paprika-stained sheets

Esteban Lopez Ufarte

My goat curds gently kiss yours
Melting ice floes
In a barrel of fermented love
I cup your face in my lovely hands
While grandma grates hoove shavings
Across our bowls of gazpacho

Esteban

An authentic sample of Eddie's love poetry is to be found in the Poetry thread in the Literature section.

In its own way, it's even more frightening than precinct's (above ^).

I'm reminded of the Father Ted episode in which Mrs Doyle and Ted compete in a TV poetry competition. To Ted and Dougal's astonishment, Mrs Doyle wins.

It transpires that Ted's entry was so disturbing that the organisers of the competition had to call in the police.

I cast my nets across a tortilla flat sea
Its surface is a sheet of silver
Not even the man from del Monte
Could he conjure such a picture
My espadrilles are fraying
My soul it is decaying
Hurry back inside the fetid walls of my cabana
Before my madre she return from Tesco's

Esteban

Your eyes are violet toilet bowls
Like Elizabetha Taylor's
I would like to swim in thems
Like a Prince Charles tampax
When I squirted cuttlefish ink at thems that time
You squealed with love
Was that why you left me for the mechanico?

Esteban

Beautiful Precinct, can you do anything with Senor as well?

Nah Ville Sky Chick wrote:Beautiful Precinct, can you do anything with Senor as well?

Nah Ville- I prefer do things with beautiful, sophisticate ladies, like you, but for you, yes, I try on something with Señor, sometimes.

When the scum rises in the pan
As my onions bubble
Like Michael Buble
Bubling at, maybe, the London Palladium
Then you will know
Then you will all know
That this love is bigger than a bull's swollen one
And that my cojones are ache
For you, my crazy mechanico groupie
Come back
Come listen
My Chad & Jeremy EP's
I have curtains

Esteban

I Throb every Christmastide for you
Your muchachas are zeppelins
Why can't we stay in and eat Pringles?
Tomorrow I must hoover
Please Donatella, stop this craziness
And let us instead watch the buses in Herne Hill