The Cronyism of Songbirds
Smells like you're frying bologna
You've cut up and cooked your old pony?
Now what will you ride?
A buffalo hide?
Or maybe Tonto, your crony?
What is that lump in your shorts?
Looks like a peanut of sorts
And is that a stain?
No - please ... don't explain
I'm afraid of your genital warts
Why don't you throw out that cheese?
As well as that curdled milk, please
It's green-black and spotted
All your food's rotted
It's time that you learned how to freeze
I see you're wearing a girdle
You remind me of old Auntie Myrtle
Her butt was so ample
She used a ramp--ill-
Advised (it was such a hurdle)
| Contributors: | F, quasi, Kansas Sam, quasi (sorry), Karin. |
| Poem finished: | 26th October 2003 by Karin. |