Kidd

All works on this site

by Brian Belge 2009

unless otherwise noted

There once was a Captain named Kidd

Who shanghaied Miss Joan in Madrid.

He treasured her trove

So he docked in her cove,

When out flew a Wellington Squid.

He called her a fish f**king sinner

And asked how a squid had got in her.

She brandished a knife

And he feared for his life

But she cut up the squid for their dinner.

The captain would not be outdone.

He rammed a harpoon in a gun.

He shivered his timber

And to prove he was limber

He battened her hatches for fun.

Then he poked the harpoon where she sat.

All at once she began to begat.

The bilge that spilled out

Floored Kidd in mid-shout,

There's a scuttle of fish up your tw*t!

Some minnows spewed forth from that whore;

Then crabs by the score did outpour;

Then the girl from Nantucket;

Then Liza sans bucket;

And a swimmer who wandered from shore;

An island came next; then Big Ben;

Plus a runt and shipload of men.

But old Kidd did not mind.

He just came from behind

And Miss Joan said she liked it... a lot.

She said that the ship and the runt

And the squid that led Kidd on his hunt

And the aforementioned crew

That she had let spew

Had weathered a storm up her c*nt.

They took shelter when sailing got rough.

'Twas cozy and roomy and stuff.

A year passed them by,

Then a decade let fly

Before they got flushed from her muff.

Now she rued all those things that she hid

In her poon' before Kidd popped her lid.

And to prove her regret

She vowed to beget

Kidd after Kidd after Kidd.

When the captain got wind of this shocker,

He died with his hand on her knocker.

On his tombstone she wrote:

Captain Kidd missed the Boat

While diving for Lady Joan's Locker.

Thus ends the Lament of Madrid

And the saga of poor Captain Kidd.

Instead of applause,

Hoorays or hurrahs,

Let's do what our mothers forbid.