He does a jig to say he's here,
And when he's gone away to there
He shouts 'I'm over here' and waves.
He feels like twenty-seven Daves

Who all reside in just one man.
The rooms inside are open plan
So every Dave can interact
And enter into any pact

With any other Dave inside.
There's nowhere for a Dave to hide,
Like those in the Big Brother house.
Unlike an owl or mole or mouse

Their aim in life is being seen,
To be and then to be has-been.
Some inner Daves will swear and shout.
He'll drink too much and let them out.

At other times he's good as gold,
Quieter than a mouse who's old.
He looks as if the softest butter
Wouldn't melt where Dave will utter

Words of peace and harmony.
To hurt a fly or harm a bee
Would be beyond this tranquil man.
For global peace he has a plan.

This one's head could hold a halo,
But there's a Dave who'd like to lay low,
The one who broke his friend's guitar,
An accident with his crowbar.

He dared his neighbour's new au pair
To set fire to a garden chair.
She prefers the Dave who's good,
Who's like a monk beneath his hood.

The other hood-clad Daves are bad.
The one who tries to be a cad
Was seen when Dave broke up with June
Beneath a snow-white summer moon.

He said to her, "It's me, not you."
This wasn't strictly speaking true.
It was Sue. He'd tried them both
Before he put it to a vote.

Both required a long test-drive
To let his electorate arrive
At a broad, considered view.
A majority of Daves chose Sue.

Sometimes he sings on city streets,
Recites in pubs the poems of Keats.
He wanders lonely as a cloud.
He always brings his inner crowd.

Sometimes he's quiet and sits alone,
Or at the lake he'll skim a stone,
Watching ripples reach the shore,
Then strolling slowly home to pour

A cup of tea before he goes
To bed to snooze and use his nose
To snore and keep the Daves awake
With waves of sound, without a break.

They're left to run around in dreams
With sound effects of guns and screams,
The monk-like Dave will pray for peace.
Others look like men from Grease.

Some will gladly shoot at things,
Trained assassins, ducks or kings.
One is itching to attack.
His monkey army watch his back.

They managed to evict the Dave
Who never ceased from being grave,
And often left them all depressed.
He had to get things off his chest

And talk about the world and all
The reasons why we're soon to fall
In our environmental hearse.
His existential angst was worse.

There's a Dave who likes 'N Sync.
It makes the others take to drink
When this one Dave begins to hum.
They'd all be deaf if he's not dumb.

But all in all they get on well,
Despite the constant noise and smell.
And all their different views on life
That could bring many hues of strife,

They manage to enjoy each day.
It's full of fun, not dull and grey.
Though some may frown on having fun
They all think Dave is number one.