Best Milked Poems

There was a gent named Hackle
With a temper he’d oft unshackle.
He was known to scream
Uttering curses in a stream
And then pop, snap, and crackle....

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Still grotesquely afloat
Belly ready to bloat
His last meal A Milked Oat
And then hard rowed a boat
But with a shot was downed
And the next thing was drowned!

His harsh look watchers note
And at it his foes gloat
And ample time devote
The perplexed by A Quote
He could not learn...

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