Ray Manatino’s Reworked Classics
by Ray Manatino 

Whose woods are these,
I think I know.
I think they belong
To that guy named Joe
Who lives down the street
From Peggy and Ray
And set his own pants
On fire one day.
He was sniffing lighter fluid
In the dark
When he lit a match
And his pants caught a spark
That scorched his scrotum
And sizzled his jizz;
That’s who owns them.
These woods are his.

Monday’s child is a creator of farce
Tuesday’s child has a stick up its arse
Wednesday’s child is hooked on blow
Thursday’s child always has to go
Friday’s child is unforgiving
Saturday’s child has to pimp for a living
But the child that’s born on the Sabbath day
Is really and truly and flamboyantly gay

Baa baa, black sheep,
Have you any wool?
Yes sir, yes sir,
What the fuck do you think
I’m wearing here?
Does this look like polyester
To you?

Shall I compare thee to
a summer’s day?
Okay.
A summer’s day is warm
and breezy.
You’re 98.6, and you’ve
been known to pass a lot of wind.
A summer’s day
is damp and humid.
You sweat like
Niagara Falls.
A summer’s day
is soft and gentle, and you’re
very cushy around the middle.
Also, you never yell
when someone takes all
your money.
Finally, a summer’s day
is the perfect time for
a trip to the beach.
When I think of you,
I want to
drown myself.
I guess you’re really
not much like a summer’s day,
are you?

Curses
I curse you with the spirit of Ralhallah, for charging me this late fee, Blockbuster. The one-eyed stare of Tulanjabi will seal the fate of thee, cock-buster.

Alphabet Soup
Anemic anteaters from Azerbaijan bounce from brassieres and bark at batons. Cold-water codfish cause cramps in the colon of a dark-dimpled debutante named Deborah Dedolin.

Scream, You Monkey
I saw the best mimes of my generation destroyed by a mulatto with a flame thrower and a huge man-eating whale with rubber tires. Oh my God he’s coming!

The Walrus Said
The time has come, the walrus said, to smoke a box of crack. Fucking walrus! Stay out of my drug box, and you’re standing on my sack!