A rooster, feathered and well fed
was sitting on his waterbed.
He swayed and felt some vertigo
the cause of which is hard to know.
...
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piled up high that piggin lard in that yankee farmers' yard fark cry the roosters on there beds get the chicks all dressed fat chance we have if they are chaste the only egg is on our face.
Herbert i will always be a fan of yours you have a devil in your poetry and you are honest in your thought your poetry always gives me cause to think and you are loyal AJS