VOGON BUT NOT FORGOTTEN

VOGON BUT NOT FORGOTTEN They were here, in their creative funk Writing and speaking poetry as if drunk Recognised as verses in their own way They kept chanting, hoping we’d obey But as always, so awful to see and hear Expecting those affected to shed a tear A poem directed at us, time and again Never interpreting our wincing as pain One might just have seen some feeling But it was disgusting, leaving us reeling It kept going on and on, never ending As a jerky delivery, not heart rending Personal readings thought to be alright Not as bad as on Vogon Poetry Night