Doggerel for my Bloggerel

the ottawa mandarin's epitaph

here lies a civil servant after severance

(he lies, but isn’t dead – no weeping, him ).

the letter many feared, was his deliverance;

he’s earned 12 months (well paid) of sleeping in.

 the young

since his or her momentous graduation
the youth spends half their time on applications;
they spend a fourth lamenting for the nation
bewailing this our civic degradation;
the final fourth? what left for perturbation
except inglorious hours of ******bation.

the cbc

“here lies the cbc. you know,

 it was that channel

that would play The Monkees

 right after Friedrich Handel?”

the intern

at “internship the first” her sunny mantra

was  “i’m here to lend you guys a helping hand-ra!”

by number 2 she’s learnt rousseau’s refrain:

“man is born free, but everywhere’s in chains”.

by internship the 3^rd our marxist molly

has learned to sing “the internationale-ly”.

by internship the fourth, she hits the bottle

and traces slavery back to aristotle.

but number 5 rounds off the whole adventure;

she gets full time – in other words, indenture.

bloggerissimus

don’t know enough to write? i wouldn’t stress it;

the blogger knows much less than you AND says it.

the twitteratus

bit better than a blogger’s common sense

cause where the blogger rambles, he'll condense.

for twtitterspeak’s the scholar’s new best friend:

 “@Strunk&White: Well fuck. #ThisIsTheEnd”

staying informed

some say that journalism’s dead and gone

and so’s unbiased informay-SHI-un.

so it’s becoming needful, more and more

to pick up what you can from Jersey Shore.

(and here the english major up and groans:

“BS! we get our news from Game of Thrones!”)

prime minister

our pater patriae

who loves us muchy.

a sane and sober head

but kind of touchy.

whenever i address him

he gets grouchy;

i always mix “right honourable”

up with “duce”.