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Wednesday, July 14, 2021

Br'er He-man (ne Lowe) v Ulysses Poe: a Dis Missive

     [Verse]
   
Whose name rhymes with 'willow'…?
Puff buff Don DeLillo.
Whose name rhymes with 'Brillo'…?
Rough-Reilly (dubb’d BillO'). 
Whose name rhymes with 'pillow'…? 
‘Tain’t Br’er He-man (ne Lowe).
Nor ‘tain't who you think  
'tain't that Manilow fellow...
     'cuz...
 
     [Chorus]

Br’er He-man (ne Lowe) –
he writes no songs; he writes no songs…
while me? I write about a knight
who quests unrighted wrongs. 
I further tell about a belle
dubb’d Wistful Nell. (She longs.) 
Yet folks think Br’er He-man
writes all them songs.  

Br’er He-man (ne Lowe) –
he writes no songs; he writes no songs…
while me? I sing about a king
who had this thing for thongs.
I thereon add an extra tad
about Aladdin’s bongs. 
Still, people parry: 
"Br’er: he writes them songs."  
 
Br’er He-man (ne Lowe) –
he pens no tunes; he pens no tunes...
while me? I scrawl about King Saul
(a Semite) and his goons.
I then embellish (with much relish) 
tales of hellish moons.
Still, Br’er contends,
"'Tis me who pens them tunes." 

Br’er He-man (ne Lowe) –
he pens no tunes; he pens no tunes... 
while me? I hum about my chum
whose rants he raves in runes...
and then flesh out the part about
which Bear, He-man ne’er croons. 
Still, Br’er’s twee friends
insist: "He pens them tunes." 

Br’er He-man (ne Lowe) –
he inks no airs; he inks no airs... 
while me? I chant of Willy Brandt 
and masks the Phantom wears,
love's signs (they're scant)
and lines which pant
o'er 'mmanu'l Kant's affairs.
Br'er He-man, thinks:
"'Sno fair! I inks them airs."  
 
Br’er He-man (ne Lowe) –
he inks no airs; he inks no airs…
while me? My hands shape master plans
for fans' unanswer'd prayers.
Ascending stairs which He-man scare
(stairs He-man rarely dares). 
Still, He-man thinks
it's he who inks them airs. 
 
     [Coda]
 
     Who's 
Br’er He-man (ne Lowe)
who inks them airs…?
He stinks! (Who cares!) 
     Who's  
Br’er He-man (ne Lowe)…?
He posts the tunes
he pens to loons. 
     Hey, 
Br’er, my man:
Hel-lo-o-o-o! Don't write
that song. It's shite!   
                                 (So long!)  

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