Alas Poor Yorick

A slab of meat, but tied to                       rollerblades.

Cinnamon sweet and quick

                on his feet.

A little too loud but often somber in heat.

The embodiment of farce whose own force,

                                                  topples over feet and well fairs.

                                   Smelly.

                                  And Hungarian.

                                 And hungry.

 

POINT.


For a year – peed like a girl.

                       He once broke my nose,

sneezing for fun to let me know he means well.

Not

                knowing how much he'd bring –

I got him on impulse.

 

Accordions are evil.

                                                               At least that's what he's lead to believe.

                                                               And the hamster is his girlfriend – they kiss –

All in all this fool plays well

                                                        even when his part is small