hang loose! Play loosey-goosey!
(Such state’s
achieved,
it’s now believed,
binge-viewing “I Love Lucy.”)
You'd play great games of Bocce?
First, migrate to Karachi.
There, register
as one “Monsieur
Wladziu Liberace.”
A dominance in Chess
(a challenge, I confess),
requires, first off,
that rivals doff
all peasant Chechen dress.
You'd call the shots at Draughts?
Swipe decommissioned rafts –
or purchase some
from my old chum,
ex-counterman at Schraft’s.
A Euchre win’s your goal?
Abandon rigmarole.
Begin by sitting,
briskly knitting,
‘neath yon totem pole.
Pre-teens you’d beat at Fish?
Repeat three times this wish:
“That each kid plays
like Helen Hayes,
not Dot or Lill’an Gish.”
To “first” in Hare and Hounds
may take you sev'ral rounds.
If you’re the hare,
exhibit flair:
run rivals out of bounds!
Hear “I Spy something yellow”?
All's cool if you’ll but bellow:
“What’s in your hand?
A Krugerrand?
Oh, Lord! It’s Limoncello!”
No winning Janggi tourney
was won without a journey.
You're not Korean?
I’m foreseein’
hirein’ an attorney.
Who loves Kings in the Corner
(unless he’s born a fore’gner)
must learn to play
while sitting (say)
with Muffet...or young Horner.
You’ll like relearning Ludo.
First, take a class in judo.
Then my advice
is: nick both dice --
lest mucho ‘scudo you’d owe.
Were mastering Mahjong
to sound its siren song,
grab sev’ral tiles –
indeed, grab piles!
(Hey! Would I steer you wrong?)
Who’d shine at Nine Men’s Morris,
avoiding suff’ring tsoris,
just needs to own,
“I’m not alone.”
(Relax, man! Join the chorus!)
To medal in Othello
needs top-notch personnel. Oh,
and ev’ryone,
when all is done,
says you’re one med’lin’ fellow.
To mold Parcheesi mavens,
eight states establish havens.
Check into one!
Before you’re done
you’ll quench Parcheesi cravin’s.
You’d take the cup at Quoits,
which trophy was Detroit’s?
You’ll first replace
the trophy case,
one formerly Jon Voigt’s.
One’s best approach to Risk?
Keep operations brisk!
Each piece deploy,
thereby destroy-
ing rivals' royal fisc!
A "going out" in Scrabble
attracts no hacks nor rabble.
The dudes who win
all go “all in.”
It’s just the duds who dabble.
You’d mess about with Twister?
You'd better watch it, mister!
Your threadbare bott'
be not the spot
to cultivate a blister.
Your Uncle Wigg’ly player
(no players known are feyer)
abides a rut
and’s nutty – but…
I’ll neither “Yea!” nor “Nay!” her.
Who likes Paletti, Villa
(or else vice versa) will a-
pprove more games
with lamer names –
‘Charibdis,” say…or ‘Scylla.’
Who’d set his sights on War?
A nincompoops, Senor,
might grab a gun
but find no fun
upon a foreign shore.
Who wins her “ins” in Xeko
boasts sheets of Marimekko.
She also owns
five valve trombones
and runs a speckl’d gecko.
You wish to win at Yahtzee?
Avoid the paparazzi:
They’re hotsy-totsy,
and ex-Nazi!
Join your local ROT-C!
Zoom Schwartz Profigliano!
A game for real…or guano?
It’s real, no schmooze:
best play'd with booze.
(Do not play man’-a-mano.)
it’s now believed,
binge-viewing “I Love Lucy.”)
You'd play great games of Bocce?
First, migrate to Karachi.
There, register
as one “Monsieur
Wladziu Liberace.”
A dominance in Chess
(a challenge, I confess),
requires, first off,
that rivals doff
all peasant Chechen dress.
You'd call the shots at Draughts?
Swipe decommissioned rafts –
or purchase some
from my old chum,
ex-counterman at Schraft’s.
A Euchre win’s your goal?
Abandon rigmarole.
Begin by sitting,
briskly knitting,
‘neath yon totem pole.
Pre-teens you’d beat at Fish?
Repeat three times this wish:
“That each kid plays
like Helen Hayes,
not Dot or Lill’an Gish.”
To “first” in Hare and Hounds
may take you sev'ral rounds.
If you’re the hare,
exhibit flair:
run rivals out of bounds!
Hear “I Spy something yellow”?
All's cool if you’ll but bellow:
“What’s in your hand?
A Krugerrand?
Oh, Lord! It’s Limoncello!”
No winning Janggi tourney
was won without a journey.
You're not Korean?
I’m foreseein’
hirein’ an attorney.
Who loves Kings in the Corner
(unless he’s born a fore’gner)
must learn to play
while sitting (say)
with Muffet...or young Horner.
You’ll like relearning Ludo.
First, take a class in judo.
Then my advice
is: nick both dice --
lest mucho ‘scudo you’d owe.
Were mastering Mahjong
to sound its siren song,
grab sev’ral tiles –
indeed, grab piles!
(Hey! Would I steer you wrong?)
Who’d shine at Nine Men’s Morris,
avoiding suff’ring tsoris,
just needs to own,
“I’m not alone.”
(Relax, man! Join the chorus!)
To medal in Othello
needs top-notch personnel. Oh,
and ev’ryone,
when all is done,
says you’re one med’lin’ fellow.
To mold Parcheesi mavens,
eight states establish havens.
Check into one!
Before you’re done
you’ll quench Parcheesi cravin’s.
You’d take the cup at Quoits,
which trophy was Detroit’s?
You’ll first replace
the trophy case,
one formerly Jon Voigt’s.
One’s best approach to Risk?
Keep operations brisk!
Each piece deploy,
thereby destroy-
ing rivals' royal fisc!
A "going out" in Scrabble
attracts no hacks nor rabble.
The dudes who win
all go “all in.”
It’s just the duds who dabble.
You’d mess about with Twister?
You'd better watch it, mister!
Your threadbare bott'
be not the spot
to cultivate a blister.
Your Uncle Wigg’ly player
(no players known are feyer)
abides a rut
and’s nutty – but…
I’ll neither “Yea!” nor “Nay!” her.
Who likes Paletti, Villa
(or else vice versa) will a-
pprove more games
with lamer names –
‘Charibdis,” say…or ‘Scylla.’
Who’d set his sights on War?
A nincompoops, Senor,
might grab a gun
but find no fun
upon a foreign shore.
Who wins her “ins” in Xeko
boasts sheets of Marimekko.
She also owns
five valve trombones
and runs a speckl’d gecko.
You wish to win at Yahtzee?
Avoid the paparazzi:
They’re hotsy-totsy,
and ex-Nazi!
Join your local ROT-C!
Zoom Schwartz Profigliano!
A game for real…or guano?
It’s real, no schmooze:
best play'd with booze.
(Do not play man’-a-mano.)
