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Pointless


Not long ago we were watching so called Celebrity Editions of a certain quiz show.   Knew hardly a single guest ‘sleb, and when the reason for each having that status, was explained was still none the wiser.
Did look up the definition in OED just to make sure I wasn't senile.
Hence, this poem.

Celebrity can be
A fleeting thing
Almost as fragile as
A butterfly's wing

Dominic St. John Montgomery
He of the near aristocratic name
And Dark, saturnine good looks
Who's only near claim to fame
Was being second reserve player
On the launch of a  TV game
Sitting  there made up and ready
in case somebody didn't arrive
For this experimental launch
That was Being broadcast live
Had Sadly had to accept
It was time for him to go
As there was a full complement
For the  broadcast of the show

Disappointed and not a little bitter
Dominic St. John Montgomery
Tried to scrub the situation
Completely from his memory
Many g and t', later
Saturnine looks to the fore
Dominic sat down to dine with
This aristocrat amateur whore
Who loved good food almost
As much as she enjoyed sex
Which she assured him was
Coming up on the menu next.

Dominic St. John Montgomery
Not renowned for fortitude or wit
With a touch of realism
Decides just lie back and enjoy it
Think of the Empire
Think of the Old Queen
And most of all think
Of just what might have been.
Dominic St. John Montgomery
He of the near aristocratic name
And Dark, saturnine good looks
Who's only near claim to fame
Was being second reserve player
On the launch of a  TV game

For Celebrity can be
A fleeting thing
Almost as fragile as
A butterfly's wing







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