Wrong Day Milton & Long Way Greg Poem by Luke Easter

Any doubters that only wine gets better with age?
Well, meet Wrong Day Milton & Long Way Greg,
Meeting weekly for an all you can eat buffet lunch,
Gathering way before supper but barely after brunch.

First of all, before getting started allow me to explain,
Problem is they function like their racquetball game,
For all of those reading this poem whom do not play,
You too will easily understand because neither do they.

There are seven days in a week; Cleveland has two sides,
The east is long and narrow & the west is short and wide,
Neither area is too big so it doesn’t take a very long time,
A few years as a city resident everything is easy to find.

Milton arrived on Thursday looking for us high and wide,
Greg showed up that Friday, thirty miles on the other side,
These guys must be related because neither one can drive,
Taking blood tests it would be positive for formaldehyde.

Meeting the Bobbsey twins is a day I will always remember,
I said only 1 could be 1st they said 12, January-December,
Actually their novice playing level is really pretty darn good,
Yeah, considering they still play with racquets made of wood.

Like Mutt & Jeff, Rough & Ready, Boo-Boo & Yogi Bear,
How to tell them apart? One’s bald the other has a little hair,
It’s really so much easier on the court where everybody can,
Both skip most of their shots but one does with his left hand.

This is their natural behavior that’s right it it's nothing odd,
Hey! If you don’t believe me get a hold of Reverend Bob,
And when taking a trip you should absolutely never begin,
By getting directions from the wrong day, long way twins.

There is also a female version of these two, Joyce & Toni,
You’ll need lots of mustard, these gals talk lots of bologna,
Whatever you do don’t ask them for directions and here’s why,
What sane person wants to spend 1-hour on a 10-minute drive?