The Ballade of Barryman (Ne Lowe)

Barryman (ne
Lowe) -- he writes the
songs; he writes the 
songs... But  
me…? I write a-
bout a Knight whose
quest's unrighted 
wrongs... I    
further tell a-
bout a belle dubb’d
Wistful Nell; she 
longs... Yet  
folk still feel that
B's big deal's the  
songs.  

Barryman (ne
Lowe) -- he writes the
songs; he writes the 
songs... But  
me…? I sing a-
bout a king who
had a thing for 
thongs... I  
thereon add an 
extra tad a-
bout a lad with
bongs... Still,  
people parry: 
"B. Lowe's ware be 
songs."  

Barryman (ne
Lowe) -- he pens the
tunes; he pens the 
tunes... But  
me…? I scrawl a-
bout King Saul (a 
Juden) and his 
goons... I  
then embellish 
(with some relish) 
tales of hellish  
moons... Still,  
B. contends, "'Tis 
me who pens the 
tunes." 

Barryman (ne
Lowe) -- he pens the
tunes; he pens the  
tunes... But  
me…? I hum a-
bout a chum whose 
rants he raves in  
runes...and
then flesh out the 
part about which
B. Lowe never  
croons... Still  
B. Lowe’s friends in-
sist: "Lowe pens the 
tunes." 

Barryman (ne
Lowe) -- he inks the
airs; he inks the 
airs... But  
me…? I chant 'bout
Willy Brandt and
masks the Phantom 
wears... love's 
signs (so scant) and 
lines which pant o'er 
'mmanu'l Kant's af-
fairs. Still, 
B. Lowe thinks: "'Sno 
fair! I inks the  
airs."  

Barryman (ne
Lowe) -- he inks the
airs; he inks the  
airs... But 
me…? These hands shape 
master plans for 
fans' unanswer'd 
prayers...as-
cend the stair which
B. Lowe scares (stairs 
B Lowe rarely  
dares). Still, 
B. Lowe thinks it's 
him who inks the  
airs.  

     Who's 
Barryman (ne
Lowe) who inks the 
airs…? He stinks! (Who  
cares!) 
     Who's  
Barryman (ne
Lowe)…? He sends out 
tunes he pens to  
goons. 
     Hey, 
B. Lowe, man: hel-
lo-o-o-o! I pan your 
songs. They're shite! (So 
long!)  

Alphatulence

(Who'd, too, “discov-” the virtues of
vile vapors…? You…? You’ll pay per "Φ-e-e-ew!") 

Attend my dark Apartheid Φart. 
Beφriend nigh Starvin' Artist Φart. 
John Chapman bet
(the chap’s upset!)
The Applecart -- a φart).

Because The Clara Barton Φhart 

outsmarts The Bart 'n’ Lisa Φart, 
I list, post B
(mistakenly...?),
The Dickens/Sidney Carton Φart. 
(Plus Billy Barty's
Bach'lor Party
Boursin/Brie/Havarti Φart.)

(Napoleon...? He sold out:

Little Corp'ral couldn't hold out.
So, he dol'd out one,
he roll'd out one:
The Bonapart -- a φart).

Consider Magna Carta φarts,

Commedi-”a-h-h-h” Dell' Arte φarts.
Oui, Φrench Cheφ Child
pass’d gas (though mild):
Ms. Cuisineart -- she play'd her Φart.

Dig (do!) the DART (dans Dallas...?) Φart, 

the Dumas Pere's D'Artagnan Φart. 
Sad sackbut* Poo
dealt quite a "φe-e-e-ew"
(see D'Oyly Carte: the Φart)

     * Nanki-Poo famously assumes the

disguise of a second trombone.

Encounter gorp'd Encarta φarts.

Discount your warp'd ex parte φarts.
Note: daubs o' diar-
rhea court The A-
melia Earhart Φart.

Φast-Φreeze a Φannie Φarmer Φart...?

Just Φan Φran's Φan-... (I'd Φain not start!)
But, tho' it's Greek,
it's φar φrom chic:
The Φoul Φrat P(h)arty Φart.

Get Gertie's Star (& Garter) Φart; 

vet Bess's Porgie's Goatcart Φart:
one’s "gas passé." The other...? Hey!
An avant-gardy φart.

Plus, one Go Tell The Spartans Φart 

φells sev'ral Φartin' Dubya φarts.
And (tho' we’d pass at cribbin' classics) 
yet another Get Smart Φart.

Hark, Hark: Herr Hardy Krug'ry φarts.

Indeed, mark Harden'd Art'ry φarts.
One hears Bacall
aim'd aerosol
towards hubb' Humφ Bogart's φarts.
Φor you, a Horn & Hardart Φart. 
Φor me, a Howdy, Pardner! Φart. 
(And pardon me my askin': "How's your
Hubli-Dharwar Φart...?)

I’ve let I Beg Your Pardon φarts,

met Ich Bin Ein Stuttgarter φarts,
set Ishtar φarts,
wet Invar φarts – 
yet still no I'm Impartial Φart.

The bold Jakarta Φart sets φree

ihe cold Jumpstarter Φart. Mais oui:
It's Φrench, it's mensch,
it's "exi'stench":
The John Paul Sartre Φart.

Kids kid with Kindergarten Φarts;

they've hid their Kenyon Martin Φarts. 
(This, too's, φor kids: the wrought-
by-Kulis, bought-by-
Kulaks K-Mart Φart.

Look: a Carole Lombard φart, 

see Rich the Lion-Hearted φart...
pluth thith one hath a Lithp,
Like Quentin Crithp:
The Li'nel Bart (a φart).

Mu'mmar's Islamic Martyr φarts.

Mais, More: Med'eval Chartres  φarts.
(Please, Amadeus,
pray don't spray us
with no Moldau'd Mozart φarts.)

Ma Nature knows six Noble Gases. 
Num'ro seite's when Φess* has his
Annu'l Bean Burrito Bake-Off. Φiends warn
φriends: "Play't saφe! Φlee! Take oφφ!"
Take a pass...? 
You bet your ass! 
The Not In My Back Yard! (a φart). 

     * That’s Φess Parker, who pioneer'd the

"Wild Φrontier Φart." 

Oh, One sees Objet D'Art: a Φart, 

sees O'er the Ramparts Watch'd We Φart. 
And one (a φart what's oφφ the chart:
The Oll'ver Norville Hardy Φart. 
(Or, EΦ. EΦ. Copolla's bete noir:
One Φrom The Heart (a major φart).

Please note: Ms Dolly Parton's φartin'

jolly (NOT!) Post-Partum Φarts.
Plus, steep'd in soys 'n'
sauces hoisin 
pose the Poison Darts (pair'd Φarts).

Quick! Quit that Latin Quarter Φart 

(that one's a Quadripartite φart).
Plus, when the perp's Apu,
we're dead; we're through:
The Quik-E-Mart: a Φart.

(Resolved: I stink (like Spam):

thereφore, I am
a Duelin' Descartes Φart.)

Sanction'd are Suharto's φarts,

Six street-smart Severn Darden φarts.
Of one "effluve" 
we disapprove:
The (Deadly) Silent Partner Φart.

There's (Ae!). the Highland Tartan Φart. 

Or, try that Topsy, Part II φart. 
Dean's spiel/rant/plea –
in R. sans C.*:
You're Tearin' Me: a φart! 

     * The film Rebel Without a Cause, in

which James Dean's character famously
cries to the so-called adults in the room,
"You're tearin' me apart!"

Up your's, Unruly Upstart Φart!

Voila! Your Silvie Vartan Φart. 
Your...(Why...?)...your global Wal-Mart Φart. 
Your Avis We Try Harder Φart.

X marks The X-Files' Carter Φarts...

Yes...in New Scotland Yard are φarts,
and...Zut! The Zart (in Deutsche, 'delicate'): Das
φine und φragile, φaintly φragrant,
φairly φrugal, plainly φlagrant...
φart.

&: AAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh...

Ballade Of & For (Albeit Not By) Dave Eggers

If wishes were horses, would beggars then ride…?
Ten dishes (four courses!) ate Eggers…? Dave lied.
The knishes…? From sources Dave’s keggers can’t hide.
(“Defish” is Ms. Morse…? Is she preggers…? Whose bride…?)

Another Voyage 'Round Archaedia: Journey III

A is for Alma who’s alter’d her will. B is for Bob who is under the hill.
C is for Constance who voted for Hoover. D is for Den: neither shaker nor mover.
E is for Emma. Her race…? Almost run. F is for Fenton who’s purchased a gun.
G is for Grace who has good days and bad. H is for Hank: calls computers “a fad.”
I’s for Inez who's deflated her age. J is for Johann: dementia, third stage.
K is for Kathryn a petulant scold. L is for Lon whose great-granddaughter’s old.
M is for Max who’s developed a goiter. N is for Nan: claims the doorman “annoy’d” her.
O is for Oz: keeps a floozie in town. P is for Paula. Her toenails turned brown.
Q is for Quinn. Rose insists that he died. R is for Rose: claims the newspapers lied.
S is for Shirl: mixes hounds tooth with plaid. T is for Tim who pass’d. (Ulmer’s so sad.)
U is for Ulmer who’s taken up snuff. V is for Vaughn. “Vaughn! Get offa yer duff!”
W’s Walt who tells crude shaggy dogs. X is for Xavier's x-rated blogs.
Y is for Yasser. His room has no view. Z is for Zoë. Don’t know her. Do you…?