Wallace ("Wally") Amos:
his cookies made him famous.
I ate a few. I grew...and grew.
You too...? And who could blame us...?
F. Gosden, black'd-up Amos:
his racist faces shame us.
To spot such blot one's not, mein Gott,
required to hire a shamus.
How rare, this pair of Amoi!
One wins. His twin's quite lame. Oy!
Still, much the same,
it's fair to claim,
as neither'd brook the name 'boy.'
Poet Poe pens nonsense verse. "Plus...phun," puns Uly, "I disburse." Its gamut runs from spam to worse. The po'sy posted...? Poe's diverse -- most, postcards from his universe, replies to grudges he must nurse. My summary...? Let me be terse: a mitzva, mostly. (Not a curse.)
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Composed and illustrated in 2019, each verse of poetaster Ulysses ("Uly") Poe's illuminated nonsense lyric "What A's ... -
His MAGA baseball cap is red. Or else just hair sits there instead: there's rarely nothing ON his head, tho' often nothing IN it. ...
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