my constant reader runs across
include (your
butt you bet, of course)
Sam Coleridge’s Albatross.
No African American,
tagg'd Black Sheep of the Family,
whom Miss Anne moves to marry,
dares succumb, lynch'd Alabamaly.
Concerning Cats Let Out of Bags,
one needs but note: they spill the beans.
Remember: feline fealty lags --
plus, whistle blowing’s in their genes.
Of all my nonsense verses blogg'd
since late July of 2010,
there’s one, about the Dead Horse Flogg'd,
I repost ev’ry now and then.
Though try one might, one can’t ignore
the Elephant Within the Room,
nor show beasts of this ilk the door.
(It smells, that pachydermal fume.)
The Fish out of Water. The Fly on the Wall.
The Canaries They Carry Down Mines.
One’s as awkward as hell. One’s a spy, truth to tell.
And the bird chirps, despite her confines.
Let the challenge go forth:
“Catch the Pig Who’s Been Greased!”
Bubba zigs south, then north.
Cletus veers west, then east.
Goober zags east, then west.
Gomer sheers north -- oops: south.
(Will that pig ‘e’er get serv'd
with some fruit in its mouth...?)
The Horse a Diff’rent Color of...?
His coloring's a cut above.
His hue's a whole new ball of wax.
He ordinary tincture lacks.
Consider Monkeys Infinitum
(some intrigue folks; others bite ‘em):
team'd with reams of Olivettis,
they’ll type, “…dinghies...? Near the jetties…”*
* "You will find the dinghy by the jetty"
is a line written for Bea Lillie to deliver --
as she does famously -- in the classic film
"On Approval."
The Shark, once Jump'd...? No longer needed.
Nor should shark jumps be repeated.
Dumping Dolphins...? Unrecorded.
Humping Whales...? Considered sordid.
Kid Care ala Kangaroo
puts nurse and nursling skin-to-skin.
Marsupials know what to do:
the bottle’s out; the boob is in.
The ‘L’ in ‘Lame Duck’ holds the key
to reading weaken'd destiny.
Most reckon Duck a flightless bird.
Delete one ‘L’: meet Fightless Bird.
Monkey One, who Sees No Evil,
turns aside from sights medieval.
Monkey Two, who Hears No Evil,
risks a troublesome upheaval.
Monkey Three, who Speaks No Evil,
mispronounces ‘Evel Knievel.’
Monkey Four...? He Smells No Evil.
(Not an ape, his mom’s a weevil.)
The Jaybird, Naked – birthday-suited bawd
or bare-skinned bel esprit –
appears to be a creature flaw'd:
sans down, sans gown, sans savoir vi.’
The boys and girls who’re Dumb as Oxen
all embrace the art of boxin'
so’s to beat on bullies who
forget they’re Strong as Oxen, too.
“Elephants who’re Pink of hue
are GOP pro-lifer gals,”
quipp'd VP prospect Sarah P,
referring to herself and pals.
Clement Moore chose Quiet Mouse
to haunt his silent Yuletide house.
It’s why one now but rarely hears,
“No creatures stirr'd, not even steers.”
“You Dirty Rat!” (a Cagney quote
James never really made, please note)
resembles Banksy’s Moorfields art.
Can we not take this boy to heart...?
Replace a Sacrificial Lamb
with Cherrystone or Pismo clam...?
Don’t do it, dude: take my advice!
They’ll disallow your sacrifice.
They all cite Alligator Tears –
Will Shakespeare, Spenser and their peers
who scribbl'd in the British Isles
(though theirs were shed by crocodiles).
I keep an Eastern Cricket Frog.
I’ve yet to see The Underdog.
Beneath the underdog...? Not hard:
that’s bassist Charley’s calling card.
“The Cunning Little Vixen Game”
(Janacek its designer’s name)...?
It’s play'd with feral metaphors.
[Game not available in stores.]
“Thou damnéd bleachéd Beachéd Whale,”
one hears vindictive Ahab wail.
“But Moby never hits the beach,”
might mournful morbid Mapple preach...?
Although they can’t be eighty-sixed,
the X Ray metaphors seem mixed.
As medic’lly insightful fish,
each substitutes for God. (I wish.)
The “You Have Two Cows” parable
as teaching tool proves terrible.
This metaphor for economics...?
Milk'd by departmental comics.
One mark of Zorros seems to be
to steer clear of humanity.
Of human friends they’ve fairly few.
(They do as I would wish to do.)
Sam Coleridge’s Albatross.
No African American,
tagg'd Black Sheep of the Family,
whom Miss Anne moves to marry,
dares succumb, lynch'd Alabamaly.
Concerning Cats Let Out of Bags,
one needs but note: they spill the beans.
Remember: feline fealty lags --
plus, whistle blowing’s in their genes.
Of all my nonsense verses blogg'd
since late July of 2010,
there’s one, about the Dead Horse Flogg'd,
I repost ev’ry now and then.
Though try one might, one can’t ignore
the Elephant Within the Room,
nor show beasts of this ilk the door.
(It smells, that pachydermal fume.)
The Fish out of Water. The Fly on the Wall.
The Canaries They Carry Down Mines.
One’s as awkward as hell. One’s a spy, truth to tell.
And the bird chirps, despite her confines.
Let the challenge go forth:
“Catch the Pig Who’s Been Greased!”
Bubba zigs south, then north.
Cletus veers west, then east.
Goober zags east, then west.
Gomer sheers north -- oops: south.
(Will that pig ‘e’er get serv'd
with some fruit in its mouth...?)
The Horse a Diff’rent Color of...?
His coloring's a cut above.
His hue's a whole new ball of wax.
He ordinary tincture lacks.
Consider Monkeys Infinitum
(some intrigue folks; others bite ‘em):
team'd with reams of Olivettis,
they’ll type, “…dinghies...? Near the jetties…”*
* "You will find the dinghy by the jetty"
is a line written for Bea Lillie to deliver --
as she does famously -- in the classic film
"On Approval."
The Shark, once Jump'd...? No longer needed.
Nor should shark jumps be repeated.
Dumping Dolphins...? Unrecorded.
Humping Whales...? Considered sordid.
Kid Care ala Kangaroo
puts nurse and nursling skin-to-skin.
Marsupials know what to do:
the bottle’s out; the boob is in.
The ‘L’ in ‘Lame Duck’ holds the key
to reading weaken'd destiny.
Most reckon Duck a flightless bird.
Delete one ‘L’: meet Fightless Bird.
Monkey One, who Sees No Evil,
turns aside from sights medieval.
Monkey Two, who Hears No Evil,
risks a troublesome upheaval.
Monkey Three, who Speaks No Evil,
mispronounces ‘Evel Knievel.’
Monkey Four...? He Smells No Evil.
(Not an ape, his mom’s a weevil.)
The Jaybird, Naked – birthday-suited bawd
or bare-skinned bel esprit –
appears to be a creature flaw'd:
sans down, sans gown, sans savoir vi.’
The boys and girls who’re Dumb as Oxen
all embrace the art of boxin'
so’s to beat on bullies who
forget they’re Strong as Oxen, too.
“Elephants who’re Pink of hue
are GOP pro-lifer gals,”
quipp'd VP prospect Sarah P,
referring to herself and pals.
Clement Moore chose Quiet Mouse
to haunt his silent Yuletide house.
It’s why one now but rarely hears,
“No creatures stirr'd, not even steers.”
“You Dirty Rat!” (a Cagney quote
James never really made, please note)
resembles Banksy’s Moorfields art.
Can we not take this boy to heart...?
Replace a Sacrificial Lamb
with Cherrystone or Pismo clam...?
Don’t do it, dude: take my advice!
They’ll disallow your sacrifice.
They all cite Alligator Tears –
Will Shakespeare, Spenser and their peers
who scribbl'd in the British Isles
(though theirs were shed by crocodiles).
I keep an Eastern Cricket Frog.
I’ve yet to see The Underdog.
Beneath the underdog...? Not hard:
that’s bassist Charley’s calling card.
“The Cunning Little Vixen Game”
(Janacek its designer’s name)...?
It’s play'd with feral metaphors.
[Game not available in stores.]
“Thou damnéd bleachéd Beachéd Whale,”
one hears vindictive Ahab wail.
“But Moby never hits the beach,”
might mournful morbid Mapple preach...?
Although they can’t be eighty-sixed,
the X Ray metaphors seem mixed.
As medic’lly insightful fish,
each substitutes for God. (I wish.)
The “You Have Two Cows” parable
as teaching tool proves terrible.
This metaphor for economics...?
Milk'd by departmental comics.
One mark of Zorros seems to be
to steer clear of humanity.
Of human friends they’ve fairly few.
(They do as I would wish to do.)
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