Kibbages and Cangs

Nonsense rhyme from 1988

9/9/88

As Rapfort walked along the shore,
He watched the lobsters dance. 
He contemplated life itself: 
Its wonders and romance.

And so he took the proffered hand
And laid it on her waist, 
Knowing full well all the while 
The act devoid of taste

Was necessary anyway; and
So, with cry elated, 
He took a step, and then one more, 
Until his thirst was sated.

The billy bird flew down on him
With claws all sharply taloned, 
And uttered it a fearsome cry, 
As if from land unbalanced.

In quick defense his sword he drew, 
And with the dreadly weapon, 
He cleaved the avian in two, 
And brief was heard, “What happen?”

So swiftly safe, the gallant guy
Addressed me in this fashion: 
“When two to nine is added up, 
Do prisoners get a lashin’?”

But this I could not answer well,
And so I changed the topic. 
Not much I ken of ‘rithmatic; 
My specialty’s all optic.

“Well, how’s yer eyes, my bonny boy?
And often are my notions 
Of how the sealy quick doth fall 
When one falls in the sea.”

Abashed by this reverie,
The bravely brute he yelped 
So when he leapt into the sky, 
His throat I swiftly helped.

So knocketh now the bell of doom,
And nigh the dark clouds gather, 
As if by some strange quirk of fate 
The soap hath lost its lather.

He opened wide the mighty door
And inside spied a flying pie 
As I lie dying he goes in 
And sits on sparrows’ shoulders.

Inside, though, are the gristly men
Who walk on lanky legs,
And share one feature kindred then: 
Their stomachs were of eggs.

A gruesome sight besieged their eyes
As carefully I watched ‘em�"
Their stomachs hatched, I know not how,
And life was all anew then.

They led them in�"the man and girl
As the goblins circumlocuted.
Those ambidextrous terpsichores
Geometrically commuted.

And all of us were wondrous scared
By such a house of dimness,
And much a chat’ring of teeth was heard
By the girl possessed of slimness.

Eventually we met the guy who
Had us captured rudely,
And cordially we slit his ribs
With an automatic corkscrew.

“O for the life of a bear,” he cried
With voice so fired like a viper
And all before us tow’ring stood
A truly grizzly sliper.

The beast it growled, then cleared his throat
And sang a concert aria.
He locked on us the doors, I fear,
And quoth “Don’t go too far, ya!”

We whistled and talked of current things
For several millennia,
Till at last I spied and exit,
Clearly marked in case of fire.

So we went out and stretched our limbs,
And bid the king good bye,
And, pacified, we went our ways,
Till 1492’s day.