Eccentric Youth
[The following was written per the instructions given at Bouts Râmes.]
An eccentric youth walks past a lonely bar,
Wearing a cloak and a hat with purple plume.
With glee he sings aloud, strumming his guitar.
Suddenly a window opens, its occupant ready to fume:
“Be silent, young man! Sing no more of that tripe!
I care not for your strumming, nor your stupid credo!”
The youth yells back, “Old man, your words are ripe.
If you dislike my song, then you can suck my torpedo!”