Don Prufrock, Life of Tedium
The internet crawled to a halt
There was clearly a terrible fault
I thought I would faint
But a quitter I ain't
I may have to call on John Galt
The web page has finally loaded
Cyberspace hasn't eroded
So life will go on
My glasses I'll don
And hope that it's all been decoded
Googlewhack almost got schnuckled
Under the pressure it buckled
I can't whack my dirt
My head's starting to hurt
Sometimes I feel like a cuckold
An old German butcher named Fritz
Admitted he fondled the tits
When they called him a pervert
He said you've got nerve Bert
Mein Gott, I don't touch their cl**ts!
While writing a masterful spoonbill
I think of my hometown, Steubenville
That's in Ohio
Where I wrote my Bio
Mailing it out? I soon will.
The Bishop was a friend of young boys
And called them his "sweet tinkertoys"
He would bathe them each night
But then saw the light
when he heard "PERVERT", in his master's voice
It's Friday, so roll on the clock
My weekend is packed chock-a-block
The tavern is calling
The bell is a-tolling
I hope I don't get writer's ...
In England its gone half past five
The hour when the world comes alive
And we head for the pub
Singing "rub-a-dub-dub"
Three drunks in a public house thrive
Poetry's not my forte
I fear that I have to report a
Challenging rhyme
It's not such a crime
Really, it's more of a sport, eh?
Contributors: | Nym, F, N, Ayn Rand, Karin, quasi, Randy, Beefy, mel, Ethetran, snood, Roland, P, Kansas Sam. |
Poem finished: | 30th August 2003. |