Clean Verse

Though some say my verse is dyspeptic,
I claim that it's too antiseptic.
Who cares what I mean
when my words are so clean?
My innocence brings out the skeptic.

Now Roger, that's simply not true,
Your verse is often so blue,
it's hard to distinguish
if you're speaking English.
It's a wonder more people don't sue.



[This message has been edited by Renate (edited April 10, 2003).]

Renate, my dear, I implore -
That critical digit withdraw
Till you've had a good look
In your rudiments book
For the grammar and spelling of you're.

I've added an apostrophe, Ereme,
and I trust that you're edit is free.
Would you help with the digit
it's making me fidget
like some latter-day bourgeousie.

The digit to which I allude
Is the finger you chose to protrude
At poor Roger Slater.
(He'll sort you out later
For saying his poems are rude.)

His poems, as any may see,
Are wholesome as wholesome can be,
And he grammars and spells
In a way that excels.
(And he'd be the first to agree.)



[This message has been edited by EREME (edited April 10, 2003).]

Joan, what you wrote is quite splendid.
I'm honored that you have defended
my schoolmarmish verses
that never use curses,
for which my true thanks are extended.

Ereme would surrender her life
to protect poor Roger from strife
the way they agree
is something to see
I pronounce them now husband and wife

Dear Zita I think you're mistaken
and making too much of a fuss;
who knows with whom I am taken?
I might have been winking at Gus!

Gus:

So the Irish, you think, are superior
'cause of beer, extra-marital affairs
of presidents somewhat inferior
who behave with juvenile cares.

So an Irishman near started nuclear war
while another one lied to his Congress,
his wife and his party about a cigar
and screwed all involved - plus the dress.


So as to the St Paddy's Day great charade
with its stupified revelers drinking green beer
we try to take pity and throw a parade
to give those poor Irishmen something to cheer.

[This message has been edited by Jerry Glenn Hartwig (edited April 10, 2003).]

Joan your verse is punctiliously qwerty,
but I prefer limericks dirty.
Roger Robert's smut's famous,
a poetic Janus.
See my digital flailings are flirty.

***********

Renata, it’s better to fry
after you die, I suppose.

ZZ are you suggesting hell's a better place to be?
It may be unavoidable after this debauchery.



[This message has been edited by Renate (edited April 10, 2003).]