Tag Archives: Polka

Poem: Bad, Pun: Also Bad

We who play accordions

Know the Native Americans want us

Because they want to have a kid

And name it Polkahontas.

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Accordian to the prophecy…

Some Texan ghosts have moved in;
To dance with them they want us.
It makes me feel special somehow
To say they polka haunt us.

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