Meet Ms. Diana Dors!
She lives down Rotten Row
and best be censur'd -- or
licentious oats she'll sow.
As flights of ducks (a sord)
ascend as does the Dow,
her passions also do,
as do her hackles. Ow!
Meet Dangerfield -- young Rod --
but credit not his word:
"I'm unlike other Rods."
He'll perish by the sword.
Then, planted in the sod
among long bone-yard rows,
that silly so-'n'-so
shall burst forth. Mark my words!
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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Composed and illustrated in 2019, each verse of poetaster Ulysses ("Uly") Poe's illuminated nonsense lyric "What A's ... -
His MAGA baseball cap is red. Or else just hair sits there instead: there's rarely nothing ON his head, tho' often nothing IN it. ...
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