Should Cheevers The Pulp Salesman knock at your door,
give welcome with kindness, develop rapport,
for should you give Cheevers a reason for war,
he'll disrobe your skin to a musical score.
He'll flirt with your nostrils, he'll dance with your tongue,
he'll sip chardonnay while he sweet-talks your lungs,
he'll BOAST to your spleen 'bout the length that he's hung,
for courting your innards makes Cheevers feel young.
"But how 'bout his PULP?" you may wonder perplexed...
Have patience, you scoundrel, I'm getting there next!
Your rude interruption has made me quite vexed,
when this tale is over, I'll beat you do death!
See, PULP-WISE, Ol' Cheevers is stocked to the brim,
for hijacking PULP from his Siamese Twin
allows him to sell at a dollar per bin...
his quarterly profits are stashed in Berlin!
SO...
Should Cheevers The Pulp Salesman come to your home,
just purchase his pulp, and he'll leave you alone,
denying him business enrages his BONES,
but helps him make love to your retinal cones!
*Narrator beats reader to death*
getting married in jersey
ReplyDelete