In the village of Vur a bumpkin in purple
rode horseback and called, "Have stirrup'll
travel." The barkeep replied, "Have burp'll
be banished," and promptly laid out orange
liqueur, and disgusted at the grunge, grrrunge, grrr-runge
everywhere, wiped counters, made a poor lunge
at falling crockery and clattering silver.
A mysterious stranger sat and said "I'm a delver,
a deliverer, a sliver of nothing. Is this Ville Vur?"

Ken Rich, Fri. Oct. 1, 1999