He often was seen holding court

In the corner of the wine bar,

Quaffing "only the best claret, m'dear"

Haw haw

 

His disciples took care to surround him

For fear of intrusion by lower beings,

Those whose social standing fell short,

And whose tastes were less polished, less focussed

Lah-di-dah-di-dah

 

"Be off

And sup your brown ale

And new world wine elsewhere.

The top bench has no place

For you with me"

He boomed.

 

In private, his name vexed him

For he'd far rather have been called

Something regal or dignified.

Edward, William or Thomas maybe.

But no, he was stuck with

The common-or-garden

Neil.

 

Neil the Gnome

With the grandiose home

And the dead-fish handshake.

 

Kneel, Neil

And kiss my arse.

 

Friends of Neil,

Snakes in the grass.

 

Sicophants.

Snobs.

 

Guilty as charged.