The POTW: Verse Til It Hurts
Strange goings on at Poetry Central Headquarters of late, courtesy of a small imp-like creature that has recently been spotted on the premises, making odd noises and dribbling fluids into various nooks and crannies. We call him "Max," and we expect him to stay, which will mean that our expert poetry craftsmen are likely to have plenty of inspiration, but be short on free time for a while. This column may temporarily turn into the Poem of the Whenever, but we will continue to do our best to bring you quality entertainment as often as possible.
What is that spot that my baby has got
That noise that he's making, the bleating and quaking
His palms are too rough, he's not pooping enough
Is his formula right? Are his onesies too tight?
He still drools down his front after nearly a month
I'm sure it's aphasia, or fibrous dysplasia
Lupus, anemia, hypoglycemia
Shingles or measles or rickets or scurvy
About his condition our pediatrician
Copyright © 2014 by Dave Grossman
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Buy This Book:
Interested in more? Check out "Ode to the Stuff in the Sink," Dave's illustrated book of "guy" verse (concerning the deeper philosophies of things like not doing the laundry, putting your feet on the furniture, and of course beer) at the Maximegalomporium (our store). And did I mention it was illustrated? Pictures!
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