Beyoncé's Baby

Before Beyoncé had a baby,

Bailey bluffed Marcie,

Bud had nowhere to jack-up,

(Beat up, kicked out,

And strung-out nice,

He prayed to Bacchus,

Rocks and Ice)

Beyoncé had a baby,

Bailey found a

Hostel, Hostel,

Terrifying Hallstelz.

Marcie was cling-filming

Cider to reduce odour,

Whilst beneath his billet,

Bud noticed a white, shaking, blurry-ill

Walt Whitman, tremble in a mushroom trance,

Before Bailey undertook to say,

“You’re crushed and simple,

Emotional, desperate,

With the snakes in your stomach,” (Mexican accent)

Marcie – “…and you won’t take a stance,

I hate you Wepeel…” (Norwegian accent)

Bailey – “…but pity you, too,

For the Fate you seal…” (Dr Seuss)

And Bud thought,

“The Halls, cold Halls,

The terrible Hallstelz.”

Yes, Beyoncé bore a baby from her warm, wet, gelatinous snatch,

Or perhaps from a sharp incision it hatched.

And when she did,

Bud thought

“Yes!

Finally the chance,

To rise from this mess,

This semen-stained mattress,

With its hair and skin,

Diarrhoea, stomach cramps,

And craving sweat in.”

And Bud worked good and hard that night,

For a child was born and a star shone bright.