Tonsil Rinsing Poem by Haruna Garba

Talk of the town
Gossip of the town
This elder fails to be
He refuses to be his age

Come on, liquor nought could be
Pop the bottle I do
Tonsil wetting is fine

The hot, o worldly Dons!
Tonsil Rinsing
Can't be a crime

The hot, o worldly Dons!
Ecstasy at the Premier
Tonsil Wetting at Niger
Faulted this it can't be

As night advances o me!
About when it strikes one
Premier or Niger o me!
Occupied the bartender is
Shuttling about, he is beat
Shuttling around, he is bushed

Beckonings are his throes
But this eventually he beats
Beats at point of no more calls
Time some have hunchbacks
When dozers go arguing
And when standers go swaying
Tonsil wetting
Tonsil Rinsing is fine
Slammed it can't be

Alone sober Don at his job
If tanked he'd know
If still sober he knows
Don the great genuis
Don the learned
Doyen of the waterfront

His words, this trio
Nutters, screwballs they are
Crazy damn foolish

Visit to a parlour penniless
Most crazy that is
Tonsil rinsing is life
Flawed it can't be

So what does it mean
Making for unowned bottle?
Nought except effort in vain
Tonsil rinsing is life
Flawed it can't be

And what does it mean
Deserting your seated girl
To plant self at another table?
Nought but inviting a scene
Tonsil rinsing is life
Flawed it can't be

These wisdoms, Don fed us
Don the great genuis