How do you rhyme?



I don’t know, it’s a tough rhyming

So why are you reading?




Because you don’t know how to rhyme.

What a terrible thing.


I only know how to rhymes when I rhyme.

Is that why you won’t be reading?


Of course not. I just don’t like to know how to rhyme.

It’s the hard times that I know.

I’d rather you didn’t know,

I’m really scared of you.


You’re really frightened of me?

Do you know what makes you feel so afraid?

Because you’re so afraid of not knowing.


That’s right, me too.

I don’t know when to rhyme and when to not

That’s not fair, what’s the choice?



I don’t know…

There’s only one choice

And that’s death.

OFCON (shocked)

Don’t make us read

You just made us talk

I don’t know why we’re writing

Please rhyme something.




That was my last rhyme

They were sitting around a table

and a book of poetry they were trying to write down

as it was being used as a guide

There was also a bottle of brandy in the corner

And the guy on the right had his feet dangling over the other

and was pointing and grinning at everybody

I had my feet on his neck

But I didn’t touch myself or his neck again

Rhyms were being recited to them

by a woman, who had come to talk to them

I had told somebody to call me from there

A little later I was at the top of this tree

I was saying hello to them

I was telling them the good times we had here

We’re gonna have fun till sunset.

We’re gonna go and have a laugh