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Limericks by Michael R. Burch Clyde Lied! by Michael R. Burch There once was a mockingbird, Clyde, who bragged of his prowess, but lied. To his new wife he sighed, "When again, gentle bride?" "Nevermore!" bright-eyed Raven replied. The Platypus by Michael R. Burch The platypus, myopic, is ungainly, not erotic. His feet for bed are over-webbed, and what of his proboscis? The platypus, though, is eager although his means are meager. His sight is poor; perhaps he’ll score with a passing duck or beaver. Dot Spotted by Michael R. Burch There once was a leopardess, Dot, who indignantly answered: "I'll not! The gents are impressed with the way that I'm dressed. I wouldn't change even one spot." Stage Craft by Michael R. Burch There once was a dromedary who befriended a crafty canary. Budgie said, "You can't sing, but now, here's the thing— just think of the tunes you can carry! " The Mallard by Michael R. Burch The mallard is a fellow whose lips are long and yellow with which he, honking, kisses his bawdy, boisterous mistress: my pond’s their loud bordello! The Pelican't by Michael R. Burch Enough with this pitiful pelican! He’s awkward and stinks! Sense his smellican! His beak's far too big, so he eats like a pig, and his breath reeks of fish, I can tellican! The Better Man by Michael R. Burch Dear Ed: I don't understand why you will publish this other guy— when I'm brilliant, devoted, one hell of a poet! Yet you publish Anonymous. Fie! Fie! A pox on your head if you favor this poet who's dubious, unsavor y, inconsistent in texts, no address (I checked!) : since he's plagiarized Unknown, I'll wager! The Cosmological Constant by Michael R. Burch Einstein, the frizzy-haired, proved E equals MC squared. And so mass decreases as activity ceases? Not my mass, my ass declared! Ass-tronomical by Michael R. Burch Relativity, the theorists’ creed, says mass increases with speed. My (m)ass grows when I sit it. Mr. Einstein, get with it; equate its deflation, I plead! Relative to Whom? by Michael R. Burch Einstein’s theory, incredibly silly, says a relative grows willy-nilly at speeds close to light. Well, his relatives might, but mine grow their (m)asses more stilly! Time Out! by Michael R. Burch Hawking, who makes my head spin, says time may flow backward. I grin, imagining the surprise in my mothers' eyes when I head for the womb once again! Time Back In! by Michael R. Burch Hawking's "Brief History of Time" is such a relief! How sublime that time, in reverse, may un-write this verse and un-spend my last thin dime! Of Tetley's and V-2's by Michael R. Burch The English are very hospitable, but tea-less, alas, they grow pitiable... or pitiless, rather, and quite in a lather! O bother, they're more than formidable. The Heimlich Limerick by Michael R. Burch for T. M. The sanest of poets once wrote: "Friend, why be a sheep or a goat? Why follow the leader or be a blind breeder?" But almost no one took note. The Hair Scare by Michael R. Burch The hair flap was truly a scare: Trump's bald as a billiard back there! The whole nation laughed At the state of his graft; Now the man's wigging out, so beware! Stumped and Stomped by Trump by Michael R. Burch There once was a candidate, Trump, whose message rang clear at the stump: "Vote for me, wheeeeeeeeeeeeeee!, because I am ME, and everyone else is a chump!" Toupée or Not Toupée, That is the Question by Michael R. Burch There once was a brash billionaire who couldn't afford decent hair. Vexed voters agreed: "We're a nation in need!" But toupée the price, do we dare? Toupée or Not Toupée, This is the Answer by Michael R. Burch Oh crap, we elected Trump prez! Now he's Simon: we must do what he sez! For if anyone thinks And says his "plan" stinks, He'll wig out 'neath that weird orange fez! White as a Sheet by Michael R. Burch Donald Trump had a real Twitter scare then rushed off to fret, vent and share: “How dare Bernie QUOTE what I just said and wrote? Like Megyn he’s mean, cruel, unfair!” Baked Alaskan by Michael R. Burch There is a strange yokel so flirty she makes whores seem icons of purity. With all her winkin' and blinkin' Palin seems to be "thinkin'"— "Ah culd save th' free world 'cause ah'm purty! " Going Rogue in Rouge by Michael R. Burch It'll be hard to polish that apple enough to make her seem palatable. Though she's sweeter than Snapple how can my mind grapple with stupidity so nearly infallible? Pls refudiate by Michael R. Burch "Refudiate" this, miffed, misunderstood Ms! Shakespeare, you're not (more like Yoda, but hot) . Your grammar's atrocious; Great Poets would know this. “Clintonian” or “Billistic?” by Michael R. Burch There is a new term, “Clintonian,” which means, “Stop your in’ and moanin’. He’s only a man doing all that he can to put kneepads in the Smithsonian.” Any Woozy Floozy Will Do by Michael R. Burch Once Kennedy, as we all know, bedded a goddess, Monroe; but a man of less mettle, Bill Clinton will settle for Lewinsky and a quick blow. A Tale of Two Stiffies by Michael R. Burch There was an ex-candidate, Gore, who amazed with his talent to bore. “He was incredibly stiff,” interns said, with a sniff, “though not like his predecessor!” Self Reflection by Michael R. Burch She has a comely form and a smile that brightens her dorm... but she’s grossly unthin when seen from within; soon a griefstricken campus will mourn. Yet she’d never once criticize a friend for the size of her thighs. Do unto others— sisters and brothers? Yes, but also ourselves, likewise. Grave Thoughts by Michael R. Burch as a poet i’m rather subVerse-ive; as a writer i much prefer Curse-ive. and why not be brave on my way to the grave since i doubt that i’ll end up reHearse-ive? The -ives are double entendres: subversive/below verse, cursive/curse, rehearsed/recited and re-hearsed (reincarnated to end up in a hearse again).
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