Today's poems [4.10.08]

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There once was a fellow named Clyde,
Who fell in an outhouse and died.
Along came his brother
Who fell in another,
And now they're interred side by side. 

MY SPELL CHECKER

I have a spell checker
It came with my PC
It plane lee marks four my revue
Miss steaks aye can knot see

Eye ran this poem threw it
Your sure real glad two no
Its very polished in its own weigh
My chequer tolled me sew

A cheek or is a blessing
It freeze yew lodes of thyme
It helps me right awl stiles two reed
And aides me when aye rime

Now spilling does not 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

So ewe can sea why aye dew prays
Such soft wear four pea seas
And why eye brake in two averse
Buy righting want to please

Author Unknown

               There was a young man in Woods Hole 
               Who had an affair with a mole. 
                    Though a bit of a nancy 
                    He did like to fancy 
               Himself in a dominant role. 

               There was a young man from Nantucket 
               Took a pig in a thicket to fuck it. 
                    Said the pig, "Oh, I'm queer, 
                    Get away from my rear. . . 
               Come around to the front and I'll suck it." 

RELATIVES

Many many years ago when I was twenty three, 
I got married to a widow who was pretty as could be. 
This widow had a grown-up daughter 
Who had hair of red. 
My father fell in love with her, 
And soon the two were wed. 

This made my dad my son-in-law 
And changed my very life. 
My daughter was my mother, 
For she was my father's wife. 

To complicate the matters worse, 
Although it brought me joy, 
I soon became the father 
Of a bouncing baby boy. 

My little baby then became 
A brother-in-law to dad. 
And so became my uncle, 
Though it made me very sad. 

For if he was my uncle, 
Then that also made him brother 
To the widow's grown-up daughter 
Who, of course, was my step-mother. 

Father's wife then had a son, 
Who kept them on the run. 
And he became my grandson, 
For he was my daughter's son. 

My wife is now my mother's mother 
And it makes me blue. 
Because, although she is my wife, 
She's my grandmother too. 

If my wife is my grandmother, 
Then I am her grandchild. 
And every time I think of it, 
It simply drives me wild. 

For now I have become 
The strangest case you ever saw. 
As the husband of my grandmother, 
I am my own grandpa! 

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