'The City-Ots'' Poem by Linda Winchell

I think there's a new culture living in our Cities,
They're called the, 'City-ots'.'
They speak a language all their own,
But some sound like mumbling idi-ots!

They use not pronoun, adjectives or verbs to speak,
The language I think is Spinglish,
Consiting of, grunts, slurs and MANY bleeps!

They wear pants which have no belts,
So around their knees their pants are felt.

I met one of the City-ots', just the other day,
And not one word could I understand.
Fu, Da, ya-no's?
And maybe I think, haja doin mam?

They paint in their colors, on trains, walls and such,
But to me they make no artistic sense,
I think their arts a bit too much!

I also see that they carry brown paper bags,
And often tip them to their lips.
I guess they are taking somekind of medicine,
to save gas on those expensive Doctor trips.

Most of this culture doesn't seem to work,
Our Goverment pays them all to stay home.
I guess they're doing pretty well it seems,
They drive big fancy cars with lots of shinny chrome.

They dress well too, in some FINE shoes and suits,
And there are a lot of street ladies,
In short skirts and fancy high-heeled boots.

I just thought I would write to let you know,
not to forget your camera before you come.
You may run across one for yourself,
In the City of City-ots', where now we all look dumb.