by Charlie Petitt — April 4, 1990
First posted here December 18, 2002
These rhymes are of my own creation,
As though on some macabre[1] plantation
The fertile soil of one sick mind
Yields poems of a gruesome kind.
For when I shall begin to quote
These lines of madness that I wrote,
You’ll ask me to depart at once
For sounding like a silly dunce.
But listen, please, as I begin,
For it may cause your head to spin—
And thoughts of sanity disperse
On hearing each disgusting verse.
Hi-ya Hooey, Black Ooe![2]
Half as thick but twice as gooey!
Sticky mess gets me entangled,
Chokes my neck until I’m strangled.
Hi-ya Heenie, Black 13ie!
Picks his nose and eats the greenie!
Like a brightly shining comet,
Almost makes me want to vomit.
Hi-ya Master! What disaster!
Nostrils made of chalk and plaster!
Every time you blow your nose,
The dust gets stuck between your toes.
Hi-ya Hocust, Noisy Locust!
Not unlike the frog thou croakest.
If these rhymes get any worser,
Macintosh will eat its cursor.
Now for sure you will agree
That something must be wrong with me.
And thus shall end this crazy matter
Of foolish talk and senseless chatter.
[1] The word macabre can be pronounced as either ma-CAHB or ma-CAHB-er. I have chosen the first pronunciation, as it fits the meter. The meaning intended here is “dwelling on the gruesome.”
[2] The nonsense word Ooe is pronounced in three syllables: oo-OO-ee.