Poet Poe pens nonsense verse. "...plus phun," puns Uly, "I disburse." Its gamut runs from spam to worse. The matter 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.)
Thursday, April 5, 2018
13 Rock Bands of the Future (A Nonsense ABC)
ABle Was I?
Palindromic and twee.
CaDre?
Your children will spurn 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
will classic'lly train.
QuaRe?
They'll lose EuroVis ’69
STand Up, Stupid!
Pre-pre-teens...greatgrandkids of mine.
The Rays?
A band formerly known as UV.
The WaX?
Yes, they’ll polish your Tesla – for free.
San YZidro.
The first rockers blessed by a pope.
(And there’s bound to be more.
So abandon all hope.)
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