I found a simile once,
I was shopping for fresh croissants
on one of my Sunday jaunts

when all of a sudden there
came this urge that I must compare
their golden crisps to his hair.

I knew he’d find me a bore
if I read him my metaphor.
Alone I was, left to soar.


------------------
zz

A simile went walking once
and met a mean old metaphor
the simile as nice as pie
the metaphor was quite the boor

[This message has been edited by Robert Swagman (edited October 11, 2002).]

It opened wide to moralize
and spewed forth scenes with oral ayes
its sermons cutting down to size
those crumbled bits of humble pies


[This message has been edited by zbaby (edited October 24, 2002).]

I seek to spring another loop
of rhymed retorting sans the poop
of critical rifts. Let’s just whoop
it up and go around the coop
–no poultry here, I know this troupe.

I pulled out the Porsche and went for a loop
round Canyon Hill Road. Why, he can’t just coop
me up with that blonde-assed bunny-slut troupe;
got better ideas on how I like to whoop
’n holler. I ain’t into porno-pop poop.

I joined an elite reciprocal troupe
and found that they dished out the straightest poop.
Preferring to stay and not fly from the coop,
I lingered around to be part of the whoop.
My circle of life has become this swell loop.


------------------
zz

ironically i join the loop
on this, a day of solitude
spent wading through the cyber-gloop
for books, and clues to things in dreams;
a way, i guess, to not to brood.
and truthfully the only food
that's interesting me is soup.
not onion (found in earlier themes
of which i read a page) (or four)
but carrot soup with butterbeans
to which i had to give the score
of six point five, it needed more
of many things to make it good,
like chilli sauce and souring creams.

my body fed, my mind a hoop
of spinning worlds and rhyming law.

On days of solitude (how droll)
Around the coop the poultry stroll
Put not more onions in their bowl
They seek soup for the chicken soul


[This message has been edited by McVik (edited November 06, 2002).]

The chickens all have flown the coop
for fear of being chicken soup
so add more onions to the bowl
else, meatless, it will taste too fowl.

*groan*

As a matter of fact, I don't have anything better to do.

The Red Pullet Hen

my lunch depends
upon

a red pullet
hen

glazed with onion
sauce

beside the white
rice.

Now cut it out, Ralph. I'm trying to pack for a weekend excursion. This is distracting me.

I didn’t mind it when
My chick turned to a hen.
The sight of her lovely tail
Would hardly ever fail.
‘Me, hen-pecked? Never!’ I said
For often would she pullet red.

She pullet red
It's black and blue
Me doctor said
"What's wrong with you?
Next time your fox is in the coop
It's sure to be a wrecker
Unless you stop your chick-hen from
Hen-pecking your hen-pecker"