We, the Royal Forkers of Mississippi, feel indebted to Mr. Spaw for his part in giving us a neat-o job working on Pa and Cleetuses bar b que pit back when our Royal pain in the ass uh, King khandu went a wee bit bazonkers in his Royal head (which is a routine of his that is as regular as his Royal Movements of Bowel!) and had to be sent to that Neil Young place for Loonies.
When we heard that Mr. Spaw was feeling poorly and suffering greatly, we, The Royal Forkers of Mississippi, gather many stones, bricks and what-not together and put our brains, hearts and backs to work and erected him a grand obelisk that looks like a mighty schlong. The good folks of our good state have traveled & traversed far and near to see the erection and all stand amazed and bewildered at the site.
The ladies often swoon in rapture as they read the inscription below the erection which features the world famous poem, written by Mr. Spaw, which we now include in its entirety below:
ODE TO MY PHALLUS
O Phallus, my phallus, why art thou so teeny?
T'would be a Prize, if ye were even half the size
Of an Oscar Meyer weinie.
O phallus my phallus, why art thou so teeny
They taught me much, they taught me well
To mine own self be true
To do my own thing
Alas, my own thing is much too little to do
O Phallus my phallus why art thou so wee
T'would give me much pleasure if thou wouldst only measure
At least two inches, or three
O Phallus, my Phallus
Why art thou so wee
I saw her there, so beautiful and fair
I was filled with desire
To stoke her lust into a bright flame,
Into a raging fire.
Sweet words, wine ,and poetry
Music so soft,
Surely that would do the trick
She giggled and tittered
Then she guffawed
"I've not even seen a candle with such a small wick!"
Have I angered the ancients, those powerful gods
Who created this kit'n'kaboodle
That they should give others such wonderful rods
And leave me with this pitiful noodle.
O Phallus, my Phallus
Why art thou so damned short!
The End
We love you, Brother!
The Royal Forkers of Mississippi
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