ABle Was I? Palindromic and
twee.
CaDre? Your grandkids will burn their CD.
EFfusion? A foursome less fab, more forlorn.
GHosts In Machines? Five kazoos, one French Horn.
I, Jambot? From Ijamsville? Ja!
And they’ll jam.
KLangfarber? Lukewarm about ’em? I am.)
Mnemosyne’ll play in a Grateful Dead vein.
OPerabuffa? They'll classic'lly train.
QuaRe? They'll lose EuroVis ’69
STand Up, Stupid! Pre-pre-teens, though someday they'll shine.
The Rays? A band
formerly known as UV.
The WaX? they will polish your Tesla -- for free.
San YZidro. This band will be blessed by the Pope.
& there’s bound to be
more, so abandon all hope.
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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