Pablo The Optometrist's Friend
Broke his nose while chasing gals
(He never listened to his pals)
He took advice from horny steers.
No wonder Pablo felt so blue
And did what all good cubists do:
He moved one eye across his brow
One eye went east and one went south
Two ears elided with his mouth
Which twisted round, I don't know how
It all made sense to Pablo, though
No doubt, his confrere, Braque, would know
But when he tried to climb the stairs
To fetch his shattered violin
He knew he would begin again
To peddle freaky fractured wares
And Pablo-style, he'd make it big
For art is not exact, like trig
Picasso, at a wiser age
Still suckled at the muse's teat
And sauntered to a diff'rent beat
Though victims claimed he was not sage
(His mistresses could vouch for this)
He'd found another mouth to kiss
Contributors: | Ethetran, Kansas Sam, Beefy, Dassn't Say, P, Roland, N, F, loaf. |
Poem finished: | 1st September 2003. |