Captain Irv Le Smoler
pulled, then capped, a nerveless molar
of de Lady Mondegreen.
Dat gal den laid 'im
on de green.
Doctor Juan Dufore Wiecks-Paigh
had docked her one to four week's
pay.
Nex' day, de Lady Mondegreen,
impov'rish'd, laid ‘im on de green.
CDI Ronnie
N. “Bjorn” Cooke,
seedy Iranian-born cook,
adored de Lady Mondegreen,
de gal what laid ‘im on de green.
Lord Al "Owen" Tudor-Welles
got low'r'd, alone, into de wells,
de wells o’ Lady
Mondegreen,
de gal what laid 'im on de
green!
Uly Poe pens dogg'rel verse. "'Tis fun," hums Uly, "I disburse." The gamut runs from bad to worse. The matter treated...? Quite diverse -- most, postcards from his universe, replies to grudges he must nurse. My summary...? Let me be terse: a blessing largely. (Not a curse.)
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