Jesus was born in a manger
And in French “manger” means “to eat.”
I don’t know how that is relevant
But I still think it is neat.
Tag Archives: French
Why The French Make Good High-Rollers
You may look real classy
In your souped-up chassis
And yet prove to be asses
When you read “chassis” as chasses.
Filed under Poems
Lady and the Tramp
She was a Sagittarius
Who played a Stradivarius.
I was a Virgo
Who played the trombone.
She spent her days
Reading music and plays
While I played Tetris
Beside my pet stone.
She was a sommelier,
Who perused cassoulet
And to whom piquant tinctures
Were je ne sais quois.
But down by the lake
I jumped out of her cake
And I’m pretty certain
That she noticed moi.
Filed under Poems
An American In Paris
When walking les rues de Paris
I see people looking at me.
They laugh, “hua hua hua!”
At je ne sais quoi
And, like any sane person, I flee.
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 