His Name is Ace



Ass called Ace


This is my Ass
His name is Ace
He’s a sure Ace Ass
who knows his place
Sometimes my Ass gets a pain in the Arse
gazing at the dregs of a half filled glass
But we give him drugs to get his Ace Arse kicked
Keep him subdued with classy carrot sticks
Dangling forever, drip feed on a string
Trotting monotonously up the Malvern Spring
Carrying a nasty arse with an even greater ass
Trying to work out their body index mass
BMI oh me oh my
Delivering information by the clops of a hoof
Tippery tap tap to BLOODY STREWTH
And now the glass passes slightly fuller
As Ace the Ass channels Bryn Yuller
I mean Yul Brynner
Shall we dance dum dum dum?
In Westworld!
Not the King and I
Meet ACE the android ass with a glassy eye
taking us all on a Vacation to Die
to die – to die – to die – today – to die



This came about from one of those surreal trips at the weekend  where son repeats Arse continuously. Soon the Arse is an Ace one

Yul Brynner did not intend to be in this poem- he just appeared with some ears.  A bit Bottom like!

‘Boy have we got a Vacation for you!’ Westworld 1973



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