Doesn’t pay to be an idiot
Doesn’t pay to be a fool
Doesn’t pay to be a moron
Just the opposite of cool
How I hope this silly wisdom
Is expressly understood
That it’s foolish to be foolish
If the payment isn’t good
Look, he dries his
Watery eyes. Is
On the chair
Here he comes
Down the stairs,
Through the hall.
Watch him slip.
Watch him fall.
Watch him rise.
Hear him bawl
As he answers
The featherbrained Pasha of Ghaali
Adopted a parrot named Polly.
He taught her times tables and hundreds of fables
Until in a moment of unguarded folly,
She flew through the stables in manner so jolly
And squawked of her hate for the Pasha of Ghaali.
It was the last thing that she said,
The next day, poor Polly was dead.
This grocery rhyme in honor of our local grocer.
Yunus the grocer sold his samosas
At two-dollars-fifty a pound:
A savory treat of taters and meat
So very exquisitely ground,
And wrapped in a layer of dough,
All packaged and ready to go.
Doings of my