just hang loose! Play loosey-goosey!
Such state’s achiev'd, it’s now believ'd,
binge-viewing “I Love Lucy.”
Who’d play
great games of Bocce
first must migrate to Karachi,
there to register as one “Monsieur
Wladziu Liberace.”
To dominate in Chess
(chess is a challenge, I confess),
requires, first off, your rivals doff
unpleasant Chechen peasant dress.
Who’d call the shots at Draughts
should swipe some decommission'd rafts –
or purchase some from my old chum
who works as counterman at Schraft’s.
A Euchre win’s your goal...?
Abandon random rigmarole.
Begin by sitting, briskly knitting,
‘neath a Tlingit totem pole.
Your kids you’d beat at Fish...?
You must three times repeat this wish:
“That each one plays like Helen Hayes, a
nd not like Dot or Lill’an Gish.”
They're chary to begin
even a friendly game of Gin.
And who can blame 'em, for the game im-
pales: they take it on the chin.
To “first” in Hare and Hounds
takes more than six or seven rounds.
If you’re the hare, exhibit flair:
railroad your rivals out of bounds!
Hear “I Spy…something yellow”...?
All’ll be cool if you’ll but bellow:
“What’s that in your hand...? A Krugerrand...?
Ah, so: it’s Limoncello!”
No proper Janggi tourney
may be won without a journey.
You are not Korean...? I’m foreseein’
hirein’ an attorney.
Who loves Kings in the Corner
must (unless he’s born a fore’gner)
learn the state of play while sitting (say)
with Muffet or young Horner.
You’ll love relearning Ludo.
First, though, take a class in judo.
Then (though it’s not nice) nick both the dice --
lest mucho ‘scudo you’d owe.
Were mastering Mahjong
to sound its sultry siren song,
grab sev’ral tiles – indeed, grab piles and piles!
(Would I direct you wrong...?)
Who’d shine at Nine Men’s Morris,
while avoiding suff’ring tsoris.
merely needs to own: “I’m not alone.”
Relax, friend! Join the chorus!
To medal in Othello
calls for top-notch personnel. Oh,
yeah! And ev’ryone, when all is done,
says you’re one med’lin’ fellow.
To mold Parcheesi mavens,
certain states establish havens.
Just check into one! Before you’re done
you’ll quench Parcheesi cravin’s.
You’d take the cup at Quoits,
which first-place trophy was Detroit’s...?
You’ll first replace the trophy case,
which case was formerly Jon Voigt’s.
One’s best approach to Risk...?
Keep all your operations brisk!
Each piece apace you must deploy –
and then destroy the royal fisc!
The winning round in Scrabble
will attract no hacks or rabble.
And the dudes who win all go “all in.”
It’s only duds who dabble.
You’d mess about with Twister...?
You had better watch it, mister!
For your threadbare bott be not the spot
to cultivate a blister.
Your Uncle Wigg’ly player
(nor be none known to me feyer)
wanders in a rut and’s nutty – but…
I’ll neither “Yea!” nor “Nay!” her.
Who likes Paletti, Villa
(or vice versa) often will a-
pprove some other games with stranger names –
‘Charibdis,” say…or ‘Scylla.’
Who’d set his sights on War...?
None but a nincompoop, Senor,
would grab a gun. He’ll find no fun
is had upon a foreign shore.
Who wins her “ins” in Xeko
sleeps on sheets of Marimekko.
Plus, she also owns five valve trombones
and keeps a gekko gecko.
You wish to win at Yahtzee...?
First, avoid the paparazzi:
Most are hotsy-totsy, all ex-Nazi!
Join your local ROT-C!
Zoom Schwartz Profigliano.
Is this game for real…or guano...?
It’s for real (no schmooze), oft play'd with booze.
(Do not play man’-a-mano.)
first must migrate to Karachi,
there to register as one “Monsieur
Wladziu Liberace.”
To dominate in Chess
(chess is a challenge, I confess),
requires, first off, your rivals doff
unpleasant Chechen peasant dress.
Who’d call the shots at Draughts
should swipe some decommission'd rafts –
or purchase some from my old chum
who works as counterman at Schraft’s.
A Euchre win’s your goal...?
Abandon random rigmarole.
Begin by sitting, briskly knitting,
‘neath a Tlingit totem pole.
Your kids you’d beat at Fish...?
You must three times repeat this wish:
“That each one plays like Helen Hayes, a
nd not like Dot or Lill’an Gish.”
They're chary to begin
even a friendly game of Gin.
And who can blame 'em, for the game im-
pales: they take it on the chin.
To “first” in Hare and Hounds
takes more than six or seven rounds.
If you’re the hare, exhibit flair:
railroad your rivals out of bounds!
Hear “I Spy…something yellow”...?
All’ll be cool if you’ll but bellow:
“What’s that in your hand...? A Krugerrand...?
Ah, so: it’s Limoncello!”
No proper Janggi tourney
may be won without a journey.
You are not Korean...? I’m foreseein’
hirein’ an attorney.
Who loves Kings in the Corner
must (unless he’s born a fore’gner)
learn the state of play while sitting (say)
with Muffet or young Horner.
You’ll love relearning Ludo.
First, though, take a class in judo.
Then (though it’s not nice) nick both the dice --
lest mucho ‘scudo you’d owe.
Were mastering Mahjong
to sound its sultry siren song,
grab sev’ral tiles – indeed, grab piles and piles!
(Would I direct you wrong...?)
Who’d shine at Nine Men’s Morris,
while avoiding suff’ring tsoris.
merely needs to own: “I’m not alone.”
Relax, friend! Join the chorus!
To medal in Othello
calls for top-notch personnel. Oh,
yeah! And ev’ryone, when all is done,
says you’re one med’lin’ fellow.
To mold Parcheesi mavens,
certain states establish havens.
Just check into one! Before you’re done
you’ll quench Parcheesi cravin’s.
You’d take the cup at Quoits,
which first-place trophy was Detroit’s...?
You’ll first replace the trophy case,
which case was formerly Jon Voigt’s.
One’s best approach to Risk...?
Keep all your operations brisk!
Each piece apace you must deploy –
and then destroy the royal fisc!
The winning round in Scrabble
will attract no hacks or rabble.
And the dudes who win all go “all in.”
It’s only duds who dabble.
You’d mess about with Twister...?
You had better watch it, mister!
For your threadbare bott be not the spot
to cultivate a blister.
Your Uncle Wigg’ly player
(nor be none known to me feyer)
wanders in a rut and’s nutty – but…
I’ll neither “Yea!” nor “Nay!” her.
Who likes Paletti, Villa
(or vice versa) often will a-
pprove some other games with stranger names –
‘Charibdis,” say…or ‘Scylla.’
Who’d set his sights on War...?
None but a nincompoop, Senor,
would grab a gun. He’ll find no fun
is had upon a foreign shore.
Who wins her “ins” in Xeko
sleeps on sheets of Marimekko.
Plus, she also owns five valve trombones
and keeps a gekko gecko.
You wish to win at Yahtzee...?
First, avoid the paparazzi:
Most are hotsy-totsy, all ex-Nazi!
Join your local ROT-C!
Zoom Schwartz Profigliano.
Is this game for real…or guano...?
It’s for real (no schmooze), oft play'd with booze.
(Do not play man’-a-mano.)
