Spang.
The spork glistens, the spaghetti meeps.  
The twinkling stars, 
the girls in bars that say "Gweezle Bur" all through the night.
The sounds of a snazzy trio came drifting over the bricks...
Splinkle.
         Splinkle.
                  Splinkle.
There once was a lass from Columbra
Who swallowed an entire dog.
She said with a frown,
"Boy, that was unpleasant!"
And I just had to fall down, laughing with glee.
The chicken spoke again last night, and woke me from my slumber.
He came to rant about my poems...
"Nothing ever rhymes!" said he.
"You'll never be a poet, you bloated bag of corpulent pus!"
But I don't want to be a poet...and that is the irony of it all.

Michael Ivey, 01-26-98
(Originally published under the name Jeniffer Garner)