Poetry and Excess
There was a man from Timbuktu
Who swam till his nipples turned blue
He cried out, "Please have pity!"
On my ice-frosted titty
And so a gal from South Dakota
Who often exceeded her quota
She tried to log in
But the mad sys admin
Said, "The Force, Luke", as (badly done) Yoda
I once met a lady from Sweden
Whose pasta seldom needed weedin'
It tasted so poor
I threw up on floor
And considered internally bleedin'
There once was a terrible poet
His scansion was extremely bad and everybody but him knowed it
His lines didn't rhyme
And time after time again
Was bonked on the head but didn't feel it
There once was a fine balladeer
Whose adam's apple looked sort of queer
On closer inspection
This odd imperfection
Made sense: he's a Three Musketeer
Whenever you start a new poem
Be sure that you find it a home
Or it will spin round
Not worth a pound
And land in a Robert Frost tome
Contributors: | Francine, benzok, tonedeaf, snood, td, Nym, Anon., Kansas Sam, Karin, asdf. |
Poem finished: | 25th July 2003. |