There was a gambling man of Lusaka
who was always running low on Kwacha.
That's the money, you see,
and despite ardent pleas
when you're a gambler no one will spot 'cha.
There once was a dictator named Hitler.
He was vegetarian and wasn't a tippler.
The moral seems clear:
eat meat & drink beer.
You'll still be much better than Hitler!
There was an artist named Andy Warhol
whose paintings sure enough weren't for all.
Like a flimflam man
he copied soup cans,
and viewers saw [not Campbell, but] Warhol.
There once was a Philosopher-Botanist
who, on his jobs, had been an optimist.
But he bred seedless fruits,
and came to feel in cahoots
with purpose-denying nihilist dogmatists.
There was a cranky old man from Eger
who was prone to curse and to swear.
He was really a jerk
to Mongols and Turks,
billing them for medieval fortress repair.
In the forest there was a stately, old owl
who intended to go out on the prowl,
but before he vamoosed
his cozy tree roost
he fell asleep, throwing in the towel.
A young traveler to old Kathmandu
decided to get himself a tattoo
of a phrase in Sanskrit
that he thought was legit,
but it read, "Don't lick the wild ape canoe!"
An Eastern Garden Lizard prowling its garden
was interrupted by, "Hey, I beg your pardon,
but aren't you big for this park?"
"I'm afraid you've missed the mark.
I don't live here; I own all of these gardens."