One day Skunk said to Fox,
“Boy, do you ever reek!
I have to tell you, Foxie:
You smell worse than last week.”
 
Fox replied to Skunk,
“Hey, you’re one to talk.
I can smell you coming
From way around the block.”
 
Skunk said, “Okay, let’s ask
Ms. Flower since she’s so discreet.”
Said Fox, “Yuck, why her?
She smells so sickeningly sweet.”
 
So Fox suggested Pelican.
“Well,” said Skunk, “if you wish.
But don’t forget that he always
Smells like rotten fish.”
 
They tried and tried for hours
To agree on who could best judge
Which of the two smelled the worse.
Finally, Fox cried out, “Fudge!”
 
Then Fox went on his way,
Wandering back to his den.
“Don’t YOU smell good!” said the Missis;
She even said it again.
 
Skunk hurried on home,
Where he knew his mother would be.
“Mom, do I smell bad?”
She answered, “Not to me.”
 
A moral of this story
Is all about point of view:
Let others be who they are,
And enjoy just being you.
 
Take with a grain of salt,
What others say or think;
And never let it upset you
If they say that you stink!

- by Bob B

nobody loses all the time

i had an uncle named
Sol who was a born failure and
nearly everybody said he should have gone
into vaudeville perhaps because my Uncle Sol could
sing McCann He Was A Diver on Xmas Eve like Hell Itself which
may or may not account for the fact that my Uncle

Sol indulged in that possibly most inexcusable
of all to use a highfalootin phrase
luxuries that is or to
wit farming and be
it needlessly
added

my Uncle Sol’s farm
failed because the chickens
ate the vegetables so
my Uncle Sol had a
chicken farm till the
skunks ate the chickens when

my Uncle Sol
had a skunk farm but
the skunks caught cold and
died and so
my Uncle Sol imitated the
skunks in a subtle manner

or by drowning himself in the watertank
but somebody who’d given my Uncle Sol a Victor
Victrola and records while he lived presented to
him upon the auspicious occasion of his decease a
scruptious not to mention splendiferous funeral with
tall boys in black gloves and flowers and everything and
i remember we all cried like the Missouri
when my Uncle Sol’s coffin lurched because
somebody pressed a button
(and down went
my Uncle
Sol

and started a worm farm)