On Sun, 8 Jan 2006, Bob Marcacci wrote:
i know you're testy, but this is in good fun...
how can alan write such trite shite, mate
when it might be right or written within eye sight late
even in this poor light he won't fight weight
or he's pissed if you get the gist of my cyst just
and yet even with his limp wrist he'll twist bust
this ready set go blowhard and say he's missed lust
the mark another lark about which spark blew
may land this bark or this bard too
this off-hand card he can't stand yet
so moves to the left side where he proves wet
he's kissed his own hide and i'm not talking seek him
i'm talking geek in the bleak backside of hark dim
who goes there in the wherewithall of asses hides
and swears to chide gasses and middle classes besides
lurker among tall grasses with the dark pimp jumped
word worker and jaunt jerker humped
Hurdy Gurt lumped
and i heard he hurt the purdy perv slumped
with his late night swerve and some nerve pumped
to curveball us all in this listfall bumped
i can't take anymore fake funk and i shan't rumped
make junk with just any whore and what's more dumped
i swore it off, cough!
--
Bob Marcacci
I call architecture frozen music.
- Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
I call Johann Wolfgang von Goethe Susan.
- Alan :-)
