"Those EPA's backs? Lackin' spine..." Scott's Gone But Frackenstein Lives: A Reposting with Update

Those EPA's backs?
Lackin' spine.
They fail to beat back
Frackenstein,
a freakin’ fiend – the
frackin’ kind.
Whose freakin’ field’s Frack
frackin’? Mine!


No matter how I
tack ‘n’ whine,
Scott’s lackies back him
(claque o’ swine!).
Those hacks attack. Their
knacks? Refined:
my taps drip frappes of
blacken'd brine.


Still, do I plan to 
slacken? Nein!
“What hey!” say they. “Re-
lax! Some wine…?”
But when I fight...or 
crack 'n' pine,
I’m smacked -- redacted
back in line.

(All's gone to ru’n 'n’
wrack, in fine.)

"Forfend! Forfend! Who'd play the friend to Lady Mondegreen...?" Some Friends of Lady Mondegreen: Constrained Nonsense in Rhyme

Forfend! Forfend! Who’d play the friend to 
Lady Mondegreen?

This woman slew me kangaroo, then 
laid 'im on de green.

And yet this gal’s had sev’ral pals: one’s 
Thomas, Lord DeBoome,
that fellow who employed me gnu. Then 
Thomas low'r'd de boom.

When sometimes seen (the thought's obscene) with
Viscount Hugh Biehayve,
she'll purr to Hugh, "You devil you. Oh,
vhy cahn't you behave?"

Another mate she’s made of late is 
Dr. Juan Muntz-Wayjez.
Doc fired me cat. On top of that, he 
dock'd 'er one month’s wages.

Some say, I'm told, the lady's strolled with 
Elder Downen-Gropeter.
The man’s a rake. He stalked me snake, then 
'eld 'er down 'n' groped 'er.

(More Friends to come: a work in progress)