Today's poems [7.24.08]
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By a cozy peat fire in O'Dell,
Sat a Scot and a Mick, I hear tell.
"I'm full," cried O'Brien.
Said McLoed,"Well, I'm buyin'."
Sure and now, that's a cold day in hell.
Mary had a little lamb,
It's fleece was scarlet red.
The reason for this colour scheme
was the pick-axe in it's head.
Lester Moore was a Wells, Fargo Co. station agent for
Naco, Arizona in the cowboy days of the 1880's. He's
buried in the Boot Hill Cemetery in Tombstone, Arizona:
Here lies Lester Moore
Four slugs from a .44
No Les No More.
He's teaching her arithmetic, he said it was his mission.
He kissed her once, he kissed her twice and said, "Now that's addition."
And as he added smack by smack, in silent satisfication,
she sweetly gave the kisses back and said, "Now that's subtraction."
Then he kissed her, she kissed him without an explanation.
And both together smiled and said, "That's multiplication."
Then Dad appeared upon the scene and made a quick decision.
He kicked that kid three blocks away and said, "That's long division!"
A young wife in the outskirts of Tass
Preferred frigging to going to mass.
Said her husband, "Take Jacques,
Or any young cock,
For I cannot live up to your ass."
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