The durntner barmston stotties
a divot of flibb ovver
the squab cowld dunt
and scuts off chinning.
Shurrup and pobflange to that,
whatever your nunt.
Not a yope in the yonend
this neshfall, not a bool
in the wub. You drahwaht,
I wahnluv, and well, well, well:
we gassunder, siling
and scragging all night,
and here he comes now,
all skegflounce and marnanall,
keen as a whompslag
and, eugh! mawping bright.
{Ends}
Image found here.
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