Daniel Undecim

It was Daniel Kenneth Southgate’s eleventh birthday
And things seemed quite normal in every way
“Happy Birthday” said Mum “Can’t believe you’re eleven
So what can we do to make your special day heaven?”

“Please dispense with monosyllables” came the reply
“My frustration in conversation I’m unable to deny”
“I’m now adult and advanced from such simplistic tomfoolery
The agenda is to stretch my burgeoning voc-a-buuulary”

“So do you want toast and some tea on the side?”
“Yes, if you mean cremated dough and hot hydrogen oxide”
“And before you proffer marmalade I’d labour to point out
It’s simply dehydrated citrus fruit with the pith taken out”

“It’s nearly time for school” said Mum “Have you seen the time?”
“Mater, the chronological exactitude is no concern of mine
I’ve risen, cleansed myself and evacuated bowels
I’ve completed dental hygiene and correctly aired my towels
I’ve entwined my footwear laces in a tight and robust knot
And circumspectly freed my nasal passages of snot

“That’s all very well” said Mum “and most eloquently said”
But have you forgotten I asked you to make your bed?”
“Ah… sleeping quarters re-conditioned subsequent to the night…
“Indeed it slipped my mind, a reprehensible oversight”

“As it’s your birthday I’ll forgive you” said Mama
“But isn’t all this fancy talk taking things too far?”
“You’re growing up so fast, there’s no need to speed it up
I don’t want to lose my sweet and silly little pup!”

“Mother your agitation and frustration on the purification of my pronunciation in relation to the justification for the cessation of my simplification in the application of communication is causing extensive consternation….

…so for Gawd’s sake, just give us a bit a cake!”