Above the shadow chiaroscuro
cast by a row of weeping willow,
an abode of yellow stucco,
rose in a sun-kissed meadow,
where many a potato, tomato and spicy jalapeno
did grow.
Below this faux chateau,
a pond indigo, brim with silver winnow and delicious roe,
did glow.
Alook out a window, elbow on a pillow,
a mellow fellow,
in the throe of a radio
(which did echo a dulcet adagio concerto of cello, oboe, alto and solo soprano),
was about to sow a poetic folio.
When, with a sudden blow of humungus ripping velcro,
this picturesque tableau, as nitro from an inferno,
was broken by a rhino-like bellow.
Our little muchacho,
chilled to the very marrow, knees an eco of jello,
feeling low as the limp flow of a crushed libido,
did a turn fast and slow, like a herky-jerky yo-yo.
There, his beau, a sallow hippo most fallow,
large as an art-deco silo,
her stiletto eyes narrow, her breath septic aloe,
did crow:
"Hell-o! Hell-o!
Though you think you are a pro, or some imaginary pharaoh,
you're nothing but a big fat zero, a callow albino wino with mono!
We have to live in escrow, in fear of men repo, far from life metro,
cause we cannot forgo what we owe! Bro', we can't exist pro bono.
We need the dough, ergo, we knead the dough.
Does this info give you the necessary X and O?
O,
don't give me a whoa,
no,
don't sing do re mi fa so la ti do,
or I'll throw my mojo show of cujo judo.
So, go hoe and mow, you emaciated buffalo,
and not friggin tomorrow!"
His ego a photo of a doe caught in snow with polio,
voice aglow with the sorrow of a meek sparrow,
piano did blow:
"Yo, I didn't know."