Date: Fri, 14 Apr 95 10:54:15 CDT
Sender: Vanagon Mailing List <vanagon@vanagon.com>
From: Joel Walker <JWALKER@ua1vm.ua.edu>
Subject: FF MO' stoopid po'try
Hiya, Walker
(While driving off to work one day ...)
by Henry Wadsworth Bullslinger
By the shores of Took-a-looka,
By the slimey sewer plant,
Lived the pup-tent of old Possum,
Protected by the big Fire Ant.
Nestled under Pine Tree towers,
Covered in their yellow dust,
Drove he daily under Sweet Gum,
And he daily Sweet Gum cussed.
Down the hill, and left at bottom,
Round the lake where duckies dwell,
Watch for Canterbury stupids
As their kids drive cars like hell.
At the redlight, choices needed,
Straight and over railroad go?
Or rather left, go onto Fifteenth,
With the crazy traffic flow?
Straight ahead, and on til morning,
Past my dentist's little shack
Stuck by bowling alley's parking
Right upon the railroad track.
Through the town they called Alberta,
Years ago it had a name,
Now it is but just a place where
County Fairs have played their games.
Down the highway, widened last year,
Here it's called a Boulevard,
Still the signs are marked "Eleven"
All the way to B'Ham's yard.
Past the school named after Partlow,
Where the children played in vain
To learn to live outside the fences,
To live outside with us again.
Turn the corner, go the back way,
Past those costly student pads,
Left again, the Water Treatment,
Near the Hardin Home for Bad.
Where they keep the really crazy,
Jeffrey Dahlmer's right inside,
Lives next door to all those students,
Right next door to Bama's pride.
Slowly now, the children playing,
Sometimes cops await you here,
Shooting you with waves of radar,
Wanting cash to buy their beer.
Underneath the passing over,
Eighty-Two runs right above,
Then careful, careful, watchee students
At the Recreation place they love.
Now we pass in front of Bryces'
Where more crazies have to stay,
Pecan trees behind the fences,
Where the sad and lonely play.
Some are crazy, some unwanted,
Some don't see the light of day,
Put here by their friends and families
So they don't get in the way.
Past the four-way by the Frat House,
Past the yuppie trucks and cars,
Turn again to go behind them
Where the Bio profs are stars.
Then right-left, and dodge the students,
Walking, running, classroom race.
Here we are at work already.
God, I really hate this place!
:)
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