Retirees in The Keys,
Do with ease as they please.
So with a breakfast Mojito,
A feckless old Tito
Stared down The Flamingo
Who'd best him at Bingo.
(And in the land's local lingo,
Bird beat Loco Gringo).
Little DillyDanny sitting in school,
Can’t stand the rules so he’s playing the fool,
Firebrand burning doesn’t feel like learning,
And without discerning the adrenalin churning,
He’s twisting and turning with prenatal yearning,
This school’s not cool and he’s not returning.
Next day, can’t play, on the bus and on his way,
“Face cage hold or have you wage tolled,”
Out of bed he rolled, but he still won’t fold,
“Ageism!” cried the sage jism,
And he felt the schism that was born within him.
So he saw the Dr. and the Dr. said “Ham”,
Whamblam “I Am”, “Get Off Your Ass And Jam,”
The book uncovered, the magic was discovered,
He’d been rhyme-crime mothered,
Teacher never quite recovered,
Boy wouldn’t be smothered,
Sang his song and hovered.
So they brought in The Expert and he said “My my,”
“Now I can die, ‘cause this shit is fly.”
And he looked at the boy, looked him deep in the eye,
Said, “You can’t stop this bop, you best never try.”
“Hip Hop Lamb Chop and Sheep Will Fly!”
"Dyed For Our Tins"
This guy's displayed a big larger than I'd intended-- if you can't see the whole thing in your browser, try openning the comments section (which shrinks down the pic a bit).