llama poetry


Yup, yup yup. Here's another good one, out of the mouths of those shaggy creatures of the Andes we all know and love. Some of us even know and love them braised lightly and eaten with a raspberry vinaigrette on a bed of crispy arugula...but know matter how you slice it, (preferably rather thin - they're kinda tough) it's LLAMA.

Well, frankly, some of us get them confused with vicunas (it's along the lines of the alligator/crocodile camel/dromedary conundrum)...In The Next Issue: How To Tell The Difference! Never Be Made To Look Foolish By Peruvian Cattlemen Again!


GUNS by A.H.

Guns are bad,
Guns are mean,
Guns can hit you in the spleen.
If they hit you in the head
You're dead.
Guns,
Guns,
Guns.

Editor's Note: The truly beautiful thing about this poem is that you can substitute any weapon for "Guns" and still get the same poetic/nausea-inducing effect. Go ahead, try it -- it's sorta fun. A couple I particularly found appealing:

In the somewhat less-than-immortal words of that pointy-hat-wearing historical terrorist Ghengis Khan:

"I'd rather have my entrails trampled by a wild musk ox -- while I am still connected to them -- than be forced to read a llama's poetry."




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*Raspberry Vinaigrette Optional

**Not a weapon per se, but this is poetry, not reality. Hell, this is the World-Wide Web, not reality. If you want to come face to face with reality, watch the "Montel Williams Show", stare into the smoldering wreckage of a recent car accident, or give your mother a call.