ExcritisOft haf I heard ah friggled ones Strumpeting poetry under bed sheets Singing kunticles, sonnets & Nut so heroic kouplets While worshipping forest belles, mushrooms, Tumeric, 'n slightly cold feet Ah, thair honeyed lyricks haf Roused many a brannigan & Enticed poets ta kross Towers ah accipted thought At times I draempt ah being a verse monger Yet elders haf taught me ta shun such dreamz Fur thuse intoxicated bi poetry Make kummon sense skream Thus iz it best ta ignore all artîsts And nail them tadah stäke Then aftur chuñtin a thousand Hail Marys and keep them abay with mandrake
T Newfields, S.O.B.
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