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


Cloudia said...

An airy word pastry!
MMMMM, Delicious


Comfort Spiral

TechnoBabe said...

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