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You don't wear black face.
You'd never do such.
You don't wear white face,
You're no mime.
But every March,
Dress in green,
Affect terrible brogues,
And get drunk, some must disgracefully:
Because that's what the Irish do, think they.
Is it tasteful to wear a yarmulke for Yom Kippur,
A burka on Eid al-Adha,
And join the parade down Fifth Avenue?
Don't know why the world thinks the Irish are drunkards. I go to Ireland every year, and the only drunks I see are North Americans, whites and blacks, ****, straights and all others not mentioned.  Even the phrase "Paddy Wagon" is an ethnic slur.
Whistle while at work,
Donald is a ****;
Giuliani strokes their egos
All the way to court.
Adapted from an old rhyme about the Axis leaders during WWII
Francie Lynch Sep 27
I have nothing against the person,
But the profession can be irksome.
You may get argumentative,
But that’s part of the dance:
To step on some toes.
So, I leave you to choose,
And add some of your own.
o Dentist
o Teacher (for the disenchanted/entitled)
o Oncologists
o Auto Mechanic
o Clerics
o Lawyers
o Funeral Persona
I'm on the list too. Don't get angry. Let me know what professions irk you. Perhaps the traffic cop that just wrote the ticket up as you arrive back...
"Sorry, but the electronic ticket is already registered at HQ."   Really!
Francie Lynch Sep 24
I'm here today,
Now sixty-five;
I'm a life-long learner,
That's how I thrive.
Happy Birthday to me.
Francie Lynch Sep 20
Only Albinos
Can be  mimes,
(Or Johnny or Edgar Winter)
For Hallowe'en.
As for trick or treating,
There's enough Al Jolson masks
Out there to ***** us all.
Someone once said, "A mime is a terrible thing to waste."  :)
Francie Lynch Sep 19
We've numbers in distress;
We've villains and scoundrels
In need of redress;
Choose any one of one thousand quests -
We're in desperate need of a Hero.

No call for a cape or cowl,
Hidden rings or magic swords;
We need action,
Not placating words -
From a righteous Hero.

Greece or Rome won't be the origin,
There may well be one coming from Oregon;
At this juncture we'll take anyone -
A home grown or welcome Hero.

We'll have truth without hyperbole,
Not disdain, but hearing dignity;
One to rise up, reach out, lift us
From the swamp of vanity.

We don't need Deus ex machina,
Or anything supernatural;
A woman or man,
Natural or choice,
A sister or brother,
To call us home;
To hear a voice say,
You're never alone.
Francie Lynch Sep 14
Its commensal, at best,
This house fly of a guest;
Who frequents your home,
Alits on a chair,
Rubbing its hands together.
It shows no regrets,
Feeding, slurping and buzzing,
With a self-made bequest.
I can tolerate a bar fly;
A barn fly, a sty fly;
I've the guzzler bottle fly,
That plunders my fridge,
Swarms over my beer
Like a blood-thirsty midge.
He's a house fly,
And ignorant,
So fly paper won't do.
I need SWAT to shoo
This house fly adieu.
Do you have a house fly?
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