by William Blake
Wilma, Wilma, in thy blouse,
Red-haired prehistoric spouse,
What immortal animator
Was thy slender waist's creator?
When the Rubble clan moved in,
Was Betty jealous of thy skin,
Thy noble nose, thy dimpled knee?
Did he who penciled Fred draw thee?
Wilma, Wilma, burning bright, ye
Cartoon goddess Aphrodite,
Was it Hanna or Barbera
Made thee hot as some caldera?
by Ogden Nash
I thought running a chicken breeding farm would
be a simple matter,
Just pipe some romantic music into the chicken
coop and chill
some champagne and sit back
and wait for
the proverbial little feet's pitter-patter,
But it's turned out to be trickier than that to
affect a chicken's
Because I just don't know what chickens find attractive,
I mean, when
I go out on the town I dress to the
nines, but does
a chicken prefer a rooster in an
opera hat and
Well, I can say definitively that she does not,
And if anyone has been considering the purchase of
tuxedo and opera hat you should
come down here
and take a look at this reasonably
priced used set
Neither did my backup plan of spiking the chicken feed
fly produce results,
Nor the screening of nature documentaries intended for adults,
Nor threats of arroz con pollo,
Nor...well, I don't want to give all the embarrassing details,
but let's just
say there's nothing quite like asking a
salesman if he
has a vibrator specifically designed to
gonads to make one feel like a total yo-yo.
Yes, I'm distinctly subpar at stirring romantic longings
in the loins
of a chicken, and when it comes to setting up
blind dates in
the poultry world, I make a pretty poor yenta,
So as for breeding chickens, perhaps I wasn't menta.
by e.e. cummings
this here verse's
i used to
stick to regular
now i write onetwothreefourfive poemsjustlikethat
but this is simple work
what i want to know is
how much am i going to get paid for this
Holy Tango Vol. 1
Tango Vol. 3
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