Applaud yer Ape! Though lackin'
speech, fer
voiceless fellow 'poids she's
teacher.
Berate yer Bee…? Bunk! Bends* di-
rect her
brother bees towards hordes o'
nectar.
* Honeybees
famously perform
a so-called "waggle dance" (often
in a bee-loud glade), indicating
the location and distance away of
pollen, sometimes to the rhythm of
"Lean to the left; lean to the right;
wig-wag; zig-zag: start yer flight."
Creative Crabs crisscrawlin'
sand, with
just the one claw, crave more
bandwidth!
Does doze yer Donkey late be-
cuz great
weight awaits? Ya know he
does, mate!
Each Eaglet early leaves his
aerie,
fearin': "Why's me head sans
hair, eh...?"
Fools followin' yer Fox dis-
cover
stench most foul. Those wise don’t
hover.
Give Gibbons credit fer some
sense: who'd
not grab gigs outside his
fence? (You'd...?!)
Homebase fer Horses? Houyhnhnm-
land. So:
who's now hous’d near Samar-
kand…? (No!!)
Ignore Iguanas at yer
peril!
(Ish Kabibble did. So'd
Carroll.)
Jail Brother Jackdaw -- just be-
cause he
jaws 'bout laquer’d claws? Oh,
Lawsy!
Ku-kudos to Ku-Kudus,
who, as
Ku-Kurt* knows, ain't call’d Gnu-
Gnu Ass.
* Ku-Kurt Ka-Kasznar, of ko-kourse
Let's hear it fer yer Lemur.
Leapin'
leezards! Look: his [BLEEP] be
[BEEP]-in'!
Magnificent yer Mandrill
is! (He
makes one face that leaves me
dizzy.)
Nag not yer Narwhal! Nasty
business,
naff stuff: smacks o' parti
prisness.
Oppose Opossums? Unpro-
ductive.
(Pope* insists it's 'soul-de-
structive.')
* Not Alexander but that guy in the Vatican
Part dove, part mime, yer Para-
keet ('n'
budgie, too)'s parfait fer
eatin'.
Quit queerin’ it fer Quahogs,
will ya?!
I should so-o-o-o-o dislike to
kill ya.
Rah! Do raves fer Rabbits
get ya
ratin's 'round the hutch? You
betcha!
"Skadoodle!"? To yer Skunk? Fo'-
bidden!
(Keep his stripéd skin, though,
hidden.)
Thumbs up -- wa-a-ay up... fer yer
Thrush. Her
thighs – enthong’d -- could not be
lusher.
Unless ya feed yer Uni-
corn, he
eats yer shorts. (The problem's
thorny.)
Vote "Yessir!" for the Vole: his
voice speaks
volumes -- even though that
voice squeaks.
Who'd whistle not (when "why?"'d, they're
tearful)
back at Whales have earn’d an
earful.
Xerossify* yer Xerus?
Dried-up
bones? Ber"xerk"-- served sunny-
side-up.
* A
portmanteau coinage
amalgamating the concepts of
'dry' and 'bone' while calling to
mind the tune accompanying
the text "dem bones, dem
bones gonna walk around;
now hear the word of the Lord."
Ya'll'd yank yer Yak right off its
yacht? I'll
pray that Yahweh's not from
Rottweil.*
* A small city in Germany near
the Black Forest, famous for –
well, you know…
Zip up the zipper of yer
Zibet?
Yes, if zits ya wish t'in-
hibit.
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