Inder the Unfluence
Starkle, starkle, little twink,
"Who the hell are you?" I think.
I'm not under what you'd call
The alcofluence of incohol.
I'm just a little slort of sheep,
I'm not drunk like thinkle peep.
It's true: I don't know quite who is me yet,
(The drunker I stand here the longer I get!)
So give me one more fink to drill my cup,
'Cause I got all day sober to Sunday up.
*Inspired by "Spoonerisms"
Copyright © Just That Archaic Poet | Year Posted 2014
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