In honor of April being National Poetry Month, the ThinkTank Panel (of One) has produced the greatest work of poetic transcendence since Shakespeare's 38th sonnet. Cowboys wear shoes with spurs
A kitten purrs Carlos likes tacos He eats them at Pacos Almost doesn’t rhyme with much But that’s Ok so long as it doesn’t touch sharp objects, like scissors And Rob Beck’s arm was bitten by Lizards Gizzards Hanging from a chicken just prime for picking worms out of the ground they squirm Just like your mother’s perm done at the salon by Captain Ron Not Cap’n Crunch Kurt Russell Time for lunch We’re having Brussel sprouts Shouts go up from the crowd of turtles so loud you’d swear they were tortoseses Can you loan me 2 quarterses That’s 50 cent to pay the rent But I live in my car with my guitar I’m going to be a star if I worship gwar But gwar don’t pay for tickets So in the mean time I just lick it’s ice cream cone from Dairy Queen I let out a groan when I punctured my spleen So if it’s a liver your looking for Don’t ask me Ain’t got mine no more I sold it for three hundred pounds of pixie sticks The ball rolled out of bounds and was popped by toothpicks that I didn’t notice while skating the iron lotus domino, on the web or so said , my aunt Deb- EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE Or so it sounds When her children call her from 7 pitcher’s mounds I can see home plate and the umpire too I brought fishing bait to catch a blue trout or maybe a salmon In Jamaica we be Jamm’n In basktball we be slamm’n Ok, no dunk We can’t jump You tried this Big Hunk? that peanut infested nougat lump But who needs candy when you can have pizza like Papa John’s daily special “Meatsa” Extra cheese Lots of topping And swarms of bees hover horse’s droppings
2 Comments
Byron L. Shelley
1/6/2011 08:55:54 pm
I'm sure Shakespeare is rolling in his grave.
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1/6/2011 08:59:39 pm
I hope the Biagi's recognize the penultimate quatrain is inspired by and therefore dedicated to them.
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