Oh Jessup I set up a coup,
and it upset poor little you.
Your poems I know ems,
you're irate, and throw em
out wildly to starboard and port.
In taking pot shots,
at innocent Scots
It's troubled me lots and lots
I know what the problem is friend
You had your own plan for the end
But Amos you're lumbered
I got the round numbered
Post, you're upset because you did not!

Rabbi Burns understudy, and Poet Lorry Ate to the court of King Haggis.

Giok