Today's poems [7.27.07]

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The bustard's a fortuitous fowl, 
               Who has but small reason to growl. 
                    He avoids illigitemacy 
                    By the simple expediency 
               Of the use of an alternate vowel. 

               There was a young fellow named Perkin 
               Who was always jerkin' his gherkin. 
                    His wife said, "Now, Perkin, 
                    Stop jerkin' your gherkin: 
               You're shirkin' your ferkin'---you bastard!" 

               A young man from the banks of the Po 
               Found his cock had elongated so, 
                    That when he'd pee 
                    It was not he 
               But even his neighbors who'd know. 

   Some come here to sit and think,
   Some come here to shit and stink,
   But I come here to scratch my balls,
   And read the bullshit on the walls...


  

Chaos reigns within.

Reflect, repent, and reboot.

Order shall return.

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