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The Many Layers of the Juicy Bath Onion
The many layers of the juicy Bath onion
Let's peel them away and look at a Bathonion
The best thing about Bath is the night life
Go to Cadillacs and get off with someone's wife.
On a Sunday afternoon it's down the Bell
With the usual hair-of-the-dog, alcoholic clientele
And it doesn't matter what the weather
Cos you can always score at the Hat and Feather.
From Julian House to the Royal Crescent
You could be a toff or a smelly peasant
On every street there's always a crusty Big Issue seller
I don't know what it is, but their skin's always yeller
And every time I go down the Abbey
There's always a man at the back looking really shabby
But there's one group of people on whom you've got to take pity
And that's them poor bastards that join a residents' committee.
I went for a walk up Solsbury Hill
Met Peter Gabriel and popped a pill
An eagle flew out of the night
Shat on me head, gave me a fright.
I met Van Morrison, what a miserable git!
I met Bel Mooney, what a space cadet!
But there's one woman I'd like to meet
As I'm walking down the street
Jane Seymour
I'd knock on her door.
So what's Bath got that makes it unique?
Is it Twerton, with its Kappa tracksuit chic?
Is it Pulteney Bridge or the Royal Circus
Is it tour bus fumes in my oesophagus
No
It's the ecstatic joy and rip-roaring fun
That only comes of purchasing the Bath bun!
You can squish it, squeeze it, suck it up and sneeze it,
Lick it, tickle it, you know it loves it!
So there it is, the Bathonion
It's second to none.
© Brendan Pop
Poet, 2001
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The
Bard 2001