I’m rhyming for prose;
It’s for my street cred:
The Sanhedrin knows
That Jesus is dead.
It’s Christmas that’s fake,
So don’t spare the rod;
That’s how the ravs beat
Both Caesar and God.
These Jews of Rangoon
Will never say how they
Invested Irgun
With summa cum laude!
Crows one time the cock:
‘The Minotaur’s near,
The pawn of Moloch,
With horns like a steer,
A graduate cries
And rivers appear
‘Neath undergrad eyes.’
Crows two times the cock:
‘He’s on a dragline
From Sydney in hooves;
His labor’s so fine
His tenure improves!’
Crows three times the cock:
‘Jewjabs, clot shots, dropped soap in the shower,
Cornholed at noon beneath the Bell Tower,
Burmese Days and a regent named Power.
The Victors are “giants” in the science of Numbers.
They reign with their phalluses disguised as cucumbers!’
