Apr. 25th, 2015

osmie: (Bowler)
(inspired by those of [livejournal.com profile] skonen_blades)

At the deep end of Lake Okanagan
Lived a monster, cloaca to noggin.
But we hunted it back home,
So the beast moved to Blackcomb.
In the snows, you can hear it toboggan.

In a ramshackle hut in Nanaimo
Lived a woman who wrote NanoWriMo.
Each November, her doubt
Nagged her, "What's it about?"
But she answered, in prose, "How should I know?"

Said a border guard down in Point Roberts,
"My friend Rosencrantz, 'tain't that my job hurts,
But this daily commute
On some foreigner's route
Makes me feel like some play of Tom Stoppard's."

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Osmium Penguin

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