Good to meet you, Mr L. Koscielny,
Wafted in from far-off Lorient for an undiscloséd fee.
With your spiky Franco-Polish hairstyle
And your lithe Franco-Polish physique
I hope you won’t be as grumpy as our entirely French former skipper,
Or as guff as our entirely French former Silvestre.
Your red shirt will be the number six.
Oh virtuous digit of noble Adams!
Oh lofty figure of brave Mercer!
When that sixth shirt has worn your elbows in
And when at last you move among yesterday’s wearers of that splendid six:
What shall they say of you then, Mr L. Koscielny?
Other notable Franco-Poles include Roman Polanski,
Alleged child-rapist and definite film-maker.
Well, I don’t want to see any funny business from you and Tom,
The new core of our once invertebrate rearguard.
Let’s hold just one small hope today:
That you’re a more successful Franco-Polish combination
Than the ill-starred military alliance active between those nations
From 1921 to 1940.
Oh, with what language shall we speak of you in years ahead,
Mr L. Koscielny, our latest number six?
Tags: Franco-Poles, Joe Mercer, Laurent Koscielny, Lorient, Number 6, Roman Polanski, Tony Adams
July 20th, 2010 at 11:21 pm
hahaha thats so funny.
July 20th, 2010 at 11:37 pm
hi this doesn’t rhyme, it isn’t a poem.
thanks
Peter
July 20th, 2010 at 11:45 pm
It doesn’t have to rhyme to be a poem.
July 21st, 2010 at 12:07 am
How long did that take you to write? Waste of a nice evening from the looks of it…
July 21st, 2010 at 1:01 am
worst poem ever! congratulations.
July 21st, 2010 at 2:47 am
Hilarious – good work!
July 21st, 2010 at 8:34 am
Absolutely splendid. What a great poem. Best thing I’ve seen today
July 21st, 2010 at 9:32 am
IF IT IS A POEM IT HAS TO RHYME…
July 21st, 2010 at 11:53 am
She was a teenager, she knew exactly what she wanted.
July 21st, 2010 at 11:58 am
She was a drugged 13-year old. But if that’s cool with you…
July 21st, 2010 at 12:43 pm
*Alleged*.