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Famous Authors






The Cannibal Flea

 (Parody of Poe's Annabel Lee)


It was many and many a year ago

In a District called E.C....

That a Monster dwelt whom I came to know

By the name of Cannibal Flea,

And the brute was possessed with no other thought

Than to live -and to live on me!


I was in bed, and he was in bed

In the District named E. C.,

When first in his thirst so accurse he burst

Upon me, the Cannibal Flea,

With a bite that felt as if some one had driven

A bayonet into me.


And this was the reason why long ago

In that District named E.C...

I tumbled out of my bed, willing 

To capture the Cannibal Flea,

Who all the night until morning came

Kept boring into me!

It wore me down to a skeleton

In the District height E. C.


From that hour I sought my bed -eleven-

Till daylight he tortured me.

Yes! -That was the reason (as all men know

In that District named E.C...)

I so often jumped out of my bed by night

Willing the killing of Cannibal Flea.


But his hops they were longer by far than the hops 

Of creatures much larger than he-

Of parties more long-legged than he;

And neither the powder nor the turpentine drops,

Nor the person's engaged by me,

Were so clever as ever to stop me the hp

Of the terrible Cannibal Flea


For at night with a scream, I am waked from my dream

By the terrible Cannibal Flea;

And at morn I  ne'er rise without bites-of such size!-

From the terrible Cannibal Flea.


So I'm forced to decide I'll no longer reside

IN the District-The District-Where he doth abide,

The locality known as E.C..

That is postally known as E.C..


By Tom Hood Jr.










(Parody of Rudyard Kiplings "If")


If you can buck a mob of lady shoppers

And get outside without a scratch or bite;

If you can get a dentist for your choppers

To fix a toothache on a Sunday night;

If you can smack a truck with your jalopy

And make the driver think he was to blame;

If you can be a loafer, poor and sloppy,

Yet have the world think you're some famous name;


If you can change a tire on the thruway,

wile stranded in the busy center lane;

If you can find a foolproof, tried-and-true way

to housebreak an impossible Great Dane;

If you can find another way to open

A sardine tin when you have lost the key;

If you can find a fumbled bar of sop in 

Your shower when the suds wont let you see;


If you can rid your house of dull relations

By faking mumps or plague or Asian flu;

If you can go through tax investigations

And somehow wind up with them owing you;

If you can read these verses as we list 'em

And answer "Yes" to each and every one;

Then, Charlie, you have really licked the system-

And now we wish you'd tell us how it's done.


By: Frank Jacobs 










By Dorothy Parker:

Men seldom make passes

At girls who wear glasses.


Correction 1

By Ogden Nash:

Girls who are bespectacled

Sometimes have their neck tickled.


Correction 2

By Dorothy Dreher:

Men often lose their senses

Over Girls with contact lenses


Correction 3


I heard a woman mutter:

Glasses or no glasses,

It neither hinders nor hurts,

For men will make passes

At anything in skirts.


Correction 4

By: Bob McKenty:

Men Often get amorous

With gals who are mammorous.








Psalm of the Baldhead


Tell me not, in, merry accents,

That I have an unthatched roof;

'Tis the hairy head that lacks sense-

Baldness is of thought a proof.


Hair is vulgar, hair is useless,

And to brush and comb's a bore,

Making life but dull and juiceless

I need brush and comb no more.


Not for wise men matted hair is,

Black or brown or red or fair;

Let the savage of the prairies

Waste his time in raising hair!


Life is short, and hairs are numbered,

And, though flies are hardly borne,

Still at night I've always slumbered,

When the night-cap I have worn.


Is the world's broad field of battle,

Who'd be at the barber's call,

Listening to his tiresome tattle,

Better bare as billiard ball!


Fear no future, baldhead brother,

You were bald in infant days;

Crave not hirsute of another-

Brain it is, not hair that pays.


Lives of great men all remind us

That our smooth and polished pates

Leave all hairy heads behind us-

Let us thank the favoring fates!


Foot-Prints of Old Time's fleet walking

No one sees on our smooth crowns,

Mind no more the Idle talking

Made by envious mop-head clowns.


Let us, then, O hairless brother,

Proudly through life's pathway roll,

We remember that dear mother

Earth is barren at the pole.

By Anonymous










Abou Ben Butler

(parody of Abou Ben Ahdem)


Abou, Ben Butler (may his tribe be less!)

Awoke one night from a deep bottled ness.

And saw by the rich radiance of the moon,

Which shone and shimmered like a sliver spoon,

A stranger writing on a golden slate

(Exceeding store had Ben of spoons and plate),

And to the stranger in his tent he said:

"your little game?"  The stranger turned his head,

And, with a look made of all innocence, 

Replied: "I write the name of the Presidents."

"And is mine one?"  "Not if this court doth know

Itself, " replied the stranger.  Ben said, "oh!"

And "Ah!" but spoke again: "Just name your price

To write me up as one that may be Vice."

The stranger up and vanished.  The next night 

He came again, and showed a wondrous sight

Of names that haply yet might fill the chair-

But, lo, I the name of Butler was not there!


John Paul







Such stuff as Dreams

(Parody of Jenny Kiss'd me by Leigh Hunt)


Jenny Kiss'd me in a dream;

So did Elsie, Lucy, Cora

Bessie Gwendolyn, Eupheme,

Alice Adelaide and Dora.

Soy of honor I'm devoid,

Say monogamy has miss'd me,

But don't say to Dr. Freud

Jenny Kiss'd me


Franklin P. Adams

Jenny Merely Kissed me


Jenny Kissed me when we met.

She, Adorned in silk and satin,

Told me, "That is all you get;

And as you leave, don't let the get in"

Retrospection makes me glad:

Dread disease perhaps thus missed me.

God knows what I might have had

Had Jenny More than merely kissed me.


Bruce E. Newling


Jenny Kissed Me


Jenny kiss'd me when we met,

Jumping from the chair she sat in;

Time, you thief, who love to get

Sweets into your list, put that in!

Say I'm weary, say I'm old,

Say that health and wealth have miss'd  me

Say I've had a filthy cold

Since Jenny Kiss'd me


Paul Dehn







Twinkle, Little Car


Twinkle, twinkle, little car,

How I wonder what you are.

From this distance, who could say

Cadillac or Chevrolet?


Twinkle, twinkle, little car,

How I wonder what you are

In the distance shining bright.

I'll never know.  You just turned right.

 Dave Morice

To Shirley Temple

Twinkle, twinkle, little star,

I wonder just how old you are.

You look as if you're only five.

Are you a midget in disguise?

Armand T. Ringer

Twinkle Little Star

Twinkle, twinkle, little star,

I know exactly what you are.

You're just a sun.  How do I know?

My science teacher told me so.

Armand T. Ringer










If Walt Whitman were a greeting card writer:


O Valentine! My Valentine!

Your face is everywhere;

I see it in the dead leaves;

I see it in the toadstools in the wood;

I see it in the lake sum and the swamp moss;

But I do not is it in the peat bogs;

O Valentine!

You are the bullfrog croaking and the jackal

howling and the buzzard screaming,

And occasionally the gopher thinking;

My heart is nature's toothpaste tube, and 

you are the force eternal that squeezes 

out the final, itsy-bitsy sweetness;

O me!

O you!

O me! O you!

O you! O Me!

O us!

O Valentine!







Happy Thought

Robert Louis Stevenson

The world is so full of a number of things

I'm sure we should all be as happy as kings.



Funny Thought

Franklin P. Adams

This town is so full of a number of folks,

I'm sure there will always be matter for jokes.



Armand T. Ringer's Further Thoughts


Economic Thought

The market's so full of stock values that rise,

We should all be prepared for a sudden surprise.



Environmental Thought

The world is so full of birth rates exploding,

I am sure there are precious resources eroding.



Theological Thought

The world is so full of things that appall,

I wonder if God is aware of it all.



Educational Thought

Our schools are so full of incompetent teachers,

They may even outnumber fundamentalist preachers.



Whimsical Thought

The world is still full of a number of kings

And thousands of other ridiculous things



Deep Thought

The sky is so full of a number of stars,

I'm sure there are millions of planets like ours


Further Thoughts

Armand T. Ringer.



Prayerful Thought

The world is so full of violence and sleaze,

We should all bow our heads and get down on our knees.



Finnegan Thought

The word is so fool of a number of thinks,

Siam shore we sud oil be as hippy as kinks.



Political Thought

D.C. is so full of political hacks,

I'm amazed that our country still runs on it's tracks



Freudian Thought

The world still is full of admirers of Freud.

Don't call him a quack!  They'll be very annoyed!



Art Thought

So Ho is so full of preposterous art,

That I'd rather go look at a tree in the park.



Reptilian Thought

The world is so full of a number of snakes,

Just thinking about it now gives me the shakes



Poetical Thought

The New Yorker prints such unmusical verse,

I am sure that it's poetry couldn't be worse.



Terminal Thought

Writing such verse is beginning to bore,

I hope that my readers will send us some more