The Night Before Finals


 Twas the night before finals,
 And all through the college,
 The students were praying
 For last minute knowledge.

 Most were quite sleepy,
 But none touched their beds,
 While visions of essays
 danced in their heads.

 Out in the taverns,
 A few were still drinking,
 And hoping that liquor
 would loosen up their thinking.

 In my own apartment,
 I had been pacing,
 And dreading exams
 I soon would be facing.

 My roommate was speechless,
 His nose in his books,
 And my comments to him
 Drew unfriendly looks.

 I drained all the coffee,
 And brewed a new pot,
 No longer caring
 That my nerves were shot.

 I stared at my notes,
 But my thoughts were muddy,
 My eyes went ablur,
 I just couldn't study.

"Some pizza might help,"
 I said with a shiver,
 But each place I called
 Refused to deliver.

 I'd nearly concluded
 That life was too cruel,
 With futures depending
 On grades had in school.

 When all of a sudden,
 Our door opened wide,
 And Patron Saint Put It Off
 Ambled inside.

 His spirit was careless,
 His manner was mellow,
 He started to bellow:

 "What kind of student
 Would make such a fuss,
 To toss back at teachers
 What they tossed at us?"

 "On Cliff Notes!  On Crib Notes!
 On Last Year's Exams!
 On Wingit and Slingit,
 And Last Minute Crams!"

 His message delivered,
 He vanished from sight,
 But we heard him laughing
 Outside in the night.

"Your teachers have pegged you,
 So just do your best.
 Happy Finals to All,
 And to All, a good test."

A shiftless young fellow of Kent 
               Had his wife fuck the landlord for rent. 
                    But as she grew older, 
                    The landlord grew colder, 
               And now they live out in a tent. 

When Asimov penned long ago
The Three Laws that all robots know,
Had Star Wars shown then,
The Fourth would have been:
"A robot must not steal the show." 

Owed to the Spelling Checker



I have a spelling checker
It came with my PC
It plane lee marks four my revue
Miss steaks aye can knot sea.

Eye ran this poem threw it,
Your sure reel glad two no.
Its vary polished in it's weigh
My checker tolled me sew.

A checker is a bless sing,
It freeze yew lodes of thyme.
It helps me right awl stiles two reed,
And aides me when aye rime.

Each frays come posed up on my screen
Eye trussed too bee a joule
The checker pour o'er every word
To cheque sum spelling rule.

Be fore a veiling checkers
Hour spelling mite decline,
And if were lacks or have a laps,
We wood be maid to wine.

Butt now bee cause my spelling
Is checked with such grate flare,
Their are know faults with in my cite,
Of non eye am a wear.

Now spelling does knot phase me,
It does knot bring a tier.
My pay purrs awl due glad den
With wrapped words fare as hear.

To rite with care is quite a feet
Of witch won should be proud.
And wee mussed dew the best wee can,
Sew flaws are knot aloud.

Sow ewe can sea why aye dew prays
Such soft ware four pea seas.
And why I brake in two averse
By righting want too pleas.

The typists in Wheesley and Beesley
All fornicate keenly and eas'ly,
In this pleasant way
They add to their pay
Which in Wheesley and Beesley is measly