Parapsychology Poem by George Hunter

There was a cute gal from near here
Who could always get a free beer
When she jiggled her jugs
The guys all went bugs
And it made their wits disappear.

My dear, you are so sweet
Just watching you is a treat
I don't know how you do it
But when you put your mind to it
You make things stand which have no feet.

It's all tied into athletics
And may be a form of kinetics
It's like using your mind to bend a spoon
From anywhere across the room
Which the psychos call telekinetics.

They call it parapsychology
Which has nothing to do with biology
It's really a delusion
Brought on by confusion
By minds too involved in enology.

Which, as you know, is winemaking
A very worthwhile undertaking
But with too many glasses
You turn into asses
And believe all kinds of faking.

But she isn't really a deceiver.
She's just an excellent teaser.
I'm just being fair
Because I was there
And it made me a true believer.