Doggerel by Doggerel

It's doggerel this bloggerel
phenomenal this scoundre-el
the son of Jor-El, hell, he may as well
tell the rest of them
to stay a spell
dry martini's and cocktail weenies
in deepspace cold or the sunheat, i wear a beenie
and i'm not a poet
but who can tell the good shit from the "this is it?"
that day job, don't quit
but i'm funemployed
new clothes and you can't tell the difference
it's splendiferous
magnificus this slackersaurus smokerous
he smokes-a-saurus boris leaving it flibberflapped
fanoodled
we're going into may, a blue poodle doodle
due in may
a term paper due
six things due by may nineteenth
twenty days
i grind my teeth. however,
people don't work whatever.
let me get into my shit
doggerel, fuck it.