D’Nelian Bix was born one spring to parents, strong and tall They eyed him up and looked him over and tutted “This won’t do at all. Our son is a shriveled, shrimpy thing, so tiny and so small.” The doctor intoned, “I predict this lad won’t live past the fall.” …
Oh, how do I love thee, let me count the tentacles. I love thee to the tops and tips Of you lovely Squid. I don’t care that you tried To eat my cousin Sid. When I have opened my parasol, It reminds me of you, in all. (My Squid-like parasol.) …
Sunrise and the morning star, And one last call for me! May there be no groaning at the bar, When I finally find my keys. But such a time must come for I need sleep, Too full of whiskey and foam, When that which caused the leap Turns me back …
On last week’s show we called out to anyone listening to provide us with a noun that we could write an impromptu poem concerning. The wonderful Mister Ducky phoned in to our program and provided us with the word Carpetbagger. Below you will find our poems, written very hastily, and …
