Today's poems [5.31.09]

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He'd fart a gavotte for a starter,
And fizzle a fine serenata.
He could play on his anus
The Coriolanus:
Oof, boom, er-tum, tootle, hum tah-dah!

There was an old man from Pinole 
               Who always got in the wrong hole, 
                    And when he withdrew, 
                    All covered with goo, 
               His temper was out of control. 

Anna Hopewell's grave in Enosburg Falls, Vermont has an epitaph that
sounds like something from a Three Stooges movie:

Here lies the body of our Anna
Done to death by a banana
It wasn't the fruit that laid her low
But the skin of the thing that made her go.

There was an old gent from Kentuck 
            Who boasted a filigreed schmuck, 
                But he put it away 
                For fear that one day 
            He might put it in and get stuck. 

There was a young person of Kent            
Who was famous wherever he went. 
All the way through a fuck 
He would quack like a duck, 
And he crowed like a cock when he spent. 

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