Thursday, August 20, 2009

Verse And Worse

Random Wit, Errant Rhyme. Not A Literary Crime

They're hanging his work at the London Tate
They'll pay him in beer (two dozen in a crate)
He reckons his Muse will ensure he keeps painting
And the fame will prevent his missus from fainting

2 comments:

Cloudia said...

An airy word pastry!
MMMMM, Delicious

Aloha-

Comfort Spiral

TechnoBabe said...

Yeah but how are they gonna eat if all he gets paid is beer?