Today's poems [6.15.12]

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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. 

The wife of young Richard of Limerick 
               Complained to her hesband, "My quim, Rick, 
                    Still grows in diameter 
                    Each time that you ram at her; 
               How can your poor tool stay so slim, Rick?" 

Why, oh why, does this happen to me?
How did I end up stuck in this tree?
The ground down below looks so far away,
That if I would fall it would take me all day
To hit the ground, with a thud and a thunk.
And knowing my luck I'd land on a skunk.
So here I will sit 'til my dying day.
Or maybe, at least, 'til that bear goes away. 

Another Month Ends: 

     All Targets Met
     All Systems Working
     All Customers Satisfied
     All Staff Eager and Enthusiastic
     All Pigs Fed and Ready to Fly 

There was a young lassie named Phyllis 
               Was deflowered one night in a Willys. 
                    Before they were through 
                    Her spine was askew, 
               And I very much fear that it still is. 

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