Comments about Red O'Mara
The Qwerty Bustard
Erstime, ere bards nor wondering Joyceters
did glybb their gobs with glanjous tongue,
Sir Slip The Most of Figleefmoistners,
was undangled…and his sling unslung.
‘Twas on the Ile de Deux Sans Mustard,
with her chicklet Hoplet never wordling,
that the hunkerflesh-fed Qwerty Bustard,
marked well by dark, was ever curdling.