And journalists will tally fraud,
Maps gather information
From strange soils explorers trod.
But what becomes of humorists,
Sardonic ropes of hemp in twists?
What brings their syncopations
Back for indexing in lists?
Who hears where the laughter goes-
When chuckles fade and snorts echo?
Does the devil reap it for decoration
In Hell? Only Heaven knows.
For my part, I'm here, I'll do my best
To make Sharyl laugh, (and all the rest.)
If I'm facing deportation
From this blog, I here attest:
Though funny I may no more be
And rhyming gets the best of me,
By diligence and application
To blog may yet be here in me.
Yes, think of Koko, gorilla caged,
Lacking speech, but from young age
Through persistent education,
Learned ASL without turning a page.
And I have friends, some fruit and Blogspot
Plus free expression ('til I'm caught)
If all it takes is concentration
Then boil me some tea to cross, perhaps an aye to dot.
So I reintroduce now Doug Drones On,
Though sometimes here and sometimes gone
Until blogging or I one day depart the nation.
(Posting may by neglect grow short unlike my front lawn.)
For is Koko really not like me?
Or trekkers, scribes, riffraffery?
Great ape, now, my invocation-
I'll try to write a joke or three
If not daily, then monthly,
Help me write for friends to see
Be my primate inspiration,
And quit shaking the family tree!