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Poems, Attributed to Genetica the First

WHISTLEGREEN

Out of the darkness the tradewinds blow
Screaming from above to wreak havok down below
The people lift their voice in song early in the morn
As the Old Man dies
The newborn cries
And the evil is reborn

Little do you know of the power held by him
He can tear down the universe then build it up again
A midnight storm or a solar flare are but devices of his
trade He lives on the edge of life
He walks on the edge of a blade

One final triumphant blast that only he has seen
Is the all-consuming blaze only known as Whistlegreen
It screeches from the nether reaches of deepest blackest space
It blows away
Both night and day
And all who stand in his way



Horse

It ran through the field
It ran throught the dale
It jumped in the sea
And landed on a whale
The whale swam to Italy
It swam to Spain
I never saw that horse
Ever ever again



The Legend of Jim Pollup
By Jim Pollup

From a bottomless pit of muck and slime
And green primordial ooze
Which bubbled like an Alka-seltzer
And smelled of beans and booze

There came forth a little creature
A little squishy maggot-thing
He crawled on the ground
He turned around
And he began to sing

"I am the one known as Jim Pollup!
I am the scourge of all mankind!
With my RPG I'll make a mess of thee
I'm the mightiest bastard you'll find."

Now Jim Pollup grew in power
He grew in stature, too
He has a jetpack made of steel
And pants that were navy blue

He said, "You're warnings I will not heed
My guns will make you bleed
And when I engage my mighty foot
I can fell the strongest steed!"

Now Jim Pollup is a powerful man
And unfortunately he knows it
But even though he's good with guns
He certainly is no poet



LIMERICK

His name was Horub Heeze
He invented goatleg cheese
It tasted so bad
The only purpose it had
Was to rub on gangrenous knees



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