Bill Greenwell The Love Song of F. Ingvar Kamprad Now that you’ve unpacked my heart And checked that it’s complete, It’s time for passion. You may start By folding. Do not cheat.
Should you decide I suit your style — Convenient, well-packed — You might like this, well worth your while: My replica, exact.
Efficiency’s emotion squared, And repetition lust: I think you’ll find we’re well-prepared: I know you will adjust.
Come with me, heading one way round Love’s labyrinthine spree, With tea-lights twinkling, napkins found, And meatballs for our tea.
Chris O’Carroll The Love Song of Donald J. Trump The prowess you display, Vlad, I desire. At your crime-boss charisma I have failed. I am too weak, yet strongly I admire Your manliness. My heart you have impaled.
I wish I had the body to pull off Those hunky bare-chest poses you have nailed. You shed your shirt, my humble hat I doff And feel my heart swell, proud to be impaled. While you are iron-fisted and serene In power, I have floundered, flamed and flailed. Touch me, Vlad, make me icy, hard and lean Like you whose ruthless thrust my heart impaled.
You’re no apprentice in this power game. You’re tough, no loser, but a great prevailer. I won’t get my fair chance to make my name Until I’m more like Vlad, my heart’s impaler.
David Silverman (with apologies to Bon Jetjeman) The Love Song of William Archibald Spooner Cleverly Bark! Oh Cleverly Bark! I love to say Plingles with Cleverly Bark.
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