four merry frogs with a hey wheez wiggle wiggle wiggle
Were riding a designer fish down the middle of Lake Gibble
The fish was flopping and floundering as fashion fish do.
The frogs were laughing their guts out, and playing their old kazoo.
It’s the kind of day that other frogs are sitting in their swampy place.
But we are the orchestra of orchestras said frog cousin Mrs. Grace.
The rest of them agreed, as they floated out to sea on the fish.
Just one thing, said a dragonfly stopping by “what is your final wish?”
We gibble-gobbled fast and furiously
Like race cars that are about to pile up
Three friends meeting at a restaurant
Where people are supposed to wear masks but aren’t.
All of us not waiting our turns, so eager to explain our positions.
As rude as lifelong friends can be without consequences.
Lasagna, linguine, spaghetti, ravioli, macaroni too
Is there any pappardelle for me and for you?
Here is marinara sauce lavished on angel hair
Sure try to take a bite of my pasta if you dare.
Shrimp scampi, chicken, blackened salmon. Why not?
Bucatini, vermicelli and fettuccine hit the sweet spot
Chunky meat sauce with hamburger a plenty.
I would add more cheese, but there simply isn’t any.
That is not fettuccine you fake connoisseur,
It is obviously tagliatelle. Your pedigree unpure.
Campanelle noodles with her sweet ruffled edges
Rivals cavatappi which gives cheese rather soft ledges
Spiral shaped fusilli has groves and crevices galore.
Radiatori noodles? I love this the best out of my top four.
Elbow macaroni for the kids maybe. They think it’s fine.
But make a fancier dish if you don’t expect me to whine.
Butterfly like farfalle makes me smile and laugh.
Gemelli is too twisty; it deserves a lot of gibble and gaff.
Penne noodles are my least favorite. I do not like them at all.
I could only eat them six or seven days a week winter and fall.
Rapspin Rockshere
Where did you get
Them jammies from
If jam on rapping swing
And sing to articulate
Hey Getwiffya you
Gone let me stank
Day up?
Gobble ain't got nothing
He can't have
What makes you
Wanna ph@ck?
Gibble Dribble say
We in love
And let me do
My thing!
Talking sweet, might
Help you get it on
Just go buy the ring!
THEY OFTEN SAW OTHERS AND OTHERS WAYS
KEEPING THEIR DISTANCE TO OBSERVE AND CRITIC
WHEN THEY UNDERSTOOD WHAT WAS GOING ON
THEY BEGINNING PUTTING FACE TO NAMES
UNDERSTANDING AND RECOGNIZING
CREATING HEROS AND JEERING THOSE
WHO THEY SAW AS OBSTACLES TO WHAT THOSE
THEY FAVORED WISHED TO ACHIEVE.
SPREADING THE SUNSHINE OF NEWNESS
THEY FOUND FAULT AND WAYS TO DISAGREE WITH
WHAT THEY KNEW WAS RIGHT
AND BOUGHT WORDS AS TRUTHS TO SPEAK IN
THEIR LIMITED UNDERSTANDING OF THE HAPPENINGS BEFORE THEM.
MIGHT HIS COMPETITION DISAGREE WITH WHAT WE ARE DOING
THEY MIGHT PRAY FOR OUR DESTRUCTION
AND MAKE OUR WELL-BEING UNCERTAIN AND AT RISK.
PEOPLE WHO OPPOSE THE MONSTER OFTEN GETS STEPPED ON.
CAN WE STAND BEFORE THE MONSTER AND ANGER HIM
ONLY TO IND THAT HIS RETALIATION IS FAR GREATER THAN OUR RESISTANCE.
There was a gibble gabble woman
In our neighborhood when I was a child.
She sung gossip the way
Porters sling suitcases, trying to break people
Her tongue was fast, and mean, and she had no shame
We learned quickly she was fun to rile, and quick to spread joy
When we got older we noticed she was near-sighted too.
See? We would say, pointing, “There they are now.”
We knew full well her eyes could not make out the people.
But she took us at our lying words, and spread her powerful poisons
We laughed that she could not see the end of her own finger,
Yet she believed us; we relished giving her misinformation.
It was our mission to send her on gossip-filled excursions
During the summers of our 6th and 7th grade years.
I am sad to say we could not twist her up or wind her the next year.
She had died a pauper’s death. We were the only two at her funeral.
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