THirty-eight four and ninety posts
(Not counting those composed by ghosts
Or written into cyberspace
By cookie loss or Mom's disgrace,
The MOAB poster stoned on shit
Who prematurely hits "Submit").
Come ten to thirty-eight and five
Five hundred more (BS derive
From life, or fear, or joy intense
Not caring which makes any sense)
And we shall stand (and slightly sway)
On the peak of Thirty Nine of Kay!

Chere Lieder Comely
Rants and Chants for the Team
Bobbles on Deadline, Surrey 2001