Si Sights Spirits Signing (R)

'Twould seem as though Si Lewen's sighted a ghost.
Si's ghost's signing "...ooh poop...they call me the most..."
as it lathers grape jam onto dampfnudel toast.

'Twould seem as though Si's seen assortments of bogies.
Si's bogiemen sign "Git along little dogies..."
while swallowing (whole!) handfuls (two!) of hot hoagies.

'Twould seem as though Si's also seen him a shade.
Si's shade signs "The Charge Off the Lightning Bug Aide"
while torpedoing Bali Hai's balance of trade.

'Twould seem as though Si's now seen spotting a demon.
Si's demon's seen signing "Zee mann who luff'd weemen"
while toting a boatload of over-sex'd seamen.

'Twould seem as though Si's eyes have spied him a wraith.
Si's wraith soon, while signing "O come all ye faith-..."
slickly segues, mid-phrase, to "A-ma-a-zing graith..."

'Twould seem as though Si's seen surveying a phantom.
Si's phantom's seen signing our National Antom.
(Still, lighter than welter- but ampler than bantam-.) 

'Twould seem as though Si's overseen a chimera,
which sprite Si's eyes sight, signing "Guantanamera,"
seems less Luciano-like, more like Carrera.

'Twould seem like Si's spotted a will-o'-the-wisp,
Si's will-o'-the-wisp, signing "Ol' Mississisp-...,"
signs it strictly in Klingon, avoiding the lisp.

'Twould seem like Si's sighted some St. Elmo's Fire.
Si's St. Elmo's Fire signs "...the widening gyre..."
(Shall such signing anticipate Drumpf? Don't inquire.)

'Twould seem like Si's survey'd some fatui, ignes.
Each fatuus, ignis signs "...Unto death, sig-ness..."
which frightens His Highness (Si terms him "His Hig-ness").

'Twould seem like Si's scanned six or so aarnivalkea,
sev'ral seen signing "The Ride of the Valkyea."
Weird sisters -- and one's a bit of an alchy, huh?

Seemingly, Si's, since, surprised by a spectre.
Si's spectre's seen signing "Who pines for fine nectar?"
(Alert, please, some Braille-reading social director.)

'Twould seem like Si's seeing assemblies of spooks
signing, "Get 'em: yer greens, 'lopes, muskmelons 'n' cukes."
(Those who don't like Si's phantasms? Put up your dukes!)

'Twould seem -- si! -- like Senor Si's seeing a bruja.
Si's bruja's seen signing "...doo-wah doo-wah doo-wah..."
(You've no clue what Si or Duke's on about, do ya...?)

(NW) Word Ladders: All to One, Ship to Port, Former to Latter

ALL>ALE>OLE>ONE

SHIP>CHIP>CHIN>COIN>CORN>PORN>PORT

FORMER>FARMER>FARTER>FASTER>MASTER>MATTER>LATTER

(RS) "Of all the luck! Here's Peter F**k..." The Twelve F**ks

Of all the luck! 
Here's Peter F**k.
I'd ask him, "Wha-a-a-a-zup...?" 
but Pete ain't one to talk.

Men dare not duck 
the Law of F**k.

Alas, it's the gas: 
it's not fast; it's not thick.

Half Jim, half Huck: 
that's Barton F**k.

His film's gone unfathom'd, 
some cineastes think.

To utter, "Things suck 
at U. of F**k!"

may put all your 
scholarship money at risk.

It ain't no duck, 
Umberto's F**ke,

just the darlingest doggie. 
So: what's not to like!

They strum and pluck 
those tunes called 'f**k.'

They inflame. They enrage. 
They perturb. They provoke.

Above the ruck-
us, Brother F**k.

He's a wizkint in Physics. 
(We don't mean the jock.)

Tuck into your tuck, 
but use your f**k.

(If it's pigeon breast, 
best requisition a spork.)

Don't pass da buck! 
Bring in da f**k,

be you R2 da rapper 
or P.U. da skunk.

No jive! No shuck! 
Just Eminem's F**K.

It's useless...unless your skin's 
beige, brown or black.

It's run amok, 
the dotcom F**K.

Its bite: is it better 
or worse than its bark...?

More f**ks...? I'm stuck. 
I ain't no f***k.

Besides, I've arrived 
at a cul de sac.

     Just FYI, the 12 f**ks are 

Fauk, Fick, Fink, Fisk, Flike, folk, 

Fock, fork, funk, FACK, FARK and flack.