PRIGGINS

I’ll get this maverick new moorings—
Thinks wrong, this fellow—it’s a crime.
Plops on paint gobbets—makes mess, then he daubs it.
I’ll get this clueless scourge in line.

I’ve got to wake him from his snoring.
Hue’d up and set for starting time!
Churl best not diss me, or he’ll not in bliss be,
Arse-kicked if he won’t toe the line.

He must start drawing, that’s first in store,
Later it’s bristling—brushes galore.

He’s got to get himself new moorings—
I’ll pull him from primeval slime.
Nix on the pub lush,
He’ll learn to scrub brush.
I’ll drill him in work; kill the urge to shirk.
The leech makes messes, but he’s worth my time.

There’s no denying that he’s a clown
I’ll teach him hueing till he gets it down.

He thinks that my work is so boring.
King Kong could make better designs.
Monkey who’s tail-free—ought to in zoo jail be.
But I’ll not let him shirk, make him do good work.
I’ll teach him; Picturing’s purse will be mine!