Haughty Literati
"Odi profanum vulgus et arceo." (I hate the vulgar rabble, and drive them away.) --Horace
There once was a slow Simpsons fan named Fogel Whom Dacey accused of writing badly-rhymed d'oh-gerl.
Dacey's well-rhymed strictures severe Put a deserved "Flee!" in Fogel's G-ear, Yet flat-ered more
than any insincere "you-go-girl!"
(In rec.bicycles.tech, "slow" has more than one meaning, as does "flat-ered." The insect pun is
beneath contempt, while "G-ear also counts as a feeble pun in a bicycle thread, since Matt Groenig
sometimes drew Homer Simpson using a "G" for each ear and still represents the wisp of hair over
Homer's ear with an "M"---d'oh!)
Here's John's recent well-rhymed but futile hope:
I hope that I shall never see A Fogel poem about thee.
I speak in epithets and curses Each time I read his vile verses.
It seems no rule this poet fetters - Our unencumbered Man Of Letters.
With painful rhymes and void of rhythm, Lit'rary merit ain't within 'em.
God, Kilmer said, makes oaks and firs, Please save us now, from wooden verse.
Now, I'm _sure_ there'll never be A Fogel poem about me.
(Reprinting is the sincerest form of flat-ery.)
Next week: Werehatrack