1. Porter's I've Got You Under My Skin (a fragment that came to me in my sleep; make
of it what you will)
I’ve got your underwear on.
I’ve got your panties inside of me.
And now, good God! they’re starting to ride on me.
I’ve got your underwear on.
2. Berlin's Alexander's Ragtime Band
Stop the presses!
Stop the presses!
Seen the paper? Well, take a gander.
Sleazy pieces;
Press releases;
Incivility—
Imbecility.
Innuendo
In crescendo:
That’s the substance of Alexander's
Scumbag
News rag—
It’s a Beacon of Truth!
You oughta buy,
You oughta try
Alexander’s small-time rag.
The yellow press
Is under stress—
See our circulation sag.
Watch The Daily Bugle sell
Bits of Michael Jackson porn,
Au naturel
As the day that he was born—
Ain’t he enough to make you gag?
(The scalawag!)
We just report—
We don’t distort.
(On occasion, though, we brag.)
We’re very deft
At leaning left,
But we sometimes wave the flag.
Unless you want the Mainstream Media
Replaced by weblogs,
Ya better buy,
Ya better try
Alexander’s small-time rag!
3. Warren's Would You Like to Take a Walk?
Omigod! It’s election time again!
Holy crap! The Republicans are back.
Oh, good grief! Kerry isn’t in the running?!
Someone must be funning—
Nothin’ good ‘ll come of that.
Oh, good Lord! It’s another dam’ debate!
Jesus Christ! This is ab-solutely wack.
Freakin' A! Where the heck is Law and Order?
Stop the tape recorder—
Heaven knows, I don’t want that.
At the National Convention,
We seek conviction—but is it there?
Alas! there’s no conviction. There’s just convection—
Hot air.
Bless my stars! Have you seen ‘em meet the press?!
Golly gee! Do you think they need a flack?
Bloody hell! What a bucketful of bunkum!
Maybe if we dunk ‘em,
Somethin’ good ‘ll come of that.
4. Arlen's If I Only Had a Brain
I.
I’d pontificate for hours
On Francis Gary Powers
And keep ‘em all agog;
I’d be wise, I’d be witty,
And be sittin’ awful pretty—
If I only had a blog.
If my fans were fond o' drinkin',
I’d do some hyper-linkin'
To recipes for grog;
I’d debate Terri Schiavo,
Pick the best Hawaii Five-O—
If I only had a blog.
Profound
Is how I’d sound,
Like Captain James T. Kirk!
I would sit ‘n’ shoot my mouth off like a jerk—
And do it all
While I’m at work.
After soundin' off on cloning,
I’d spend some time bemoaning
The market price of POG;
There'd be just one opinion
In my private e-dominion—
If I only had a blog.
II.
Now, my personal computer:
Perhaps it could be cuter,
And maybe not so black.
I'd be "cute-saturated"
And be color-c'ordinated—
If I only had a Mac.
I'd have gigabytes of power
Without the phallic tower
(I'd ship the sucker back);
And I'd sit there and giggle
At that button with the squiggle—
If I only had a Mac.
I'd tell
The boys at Dell
To go to Hellespont;
Now that Apple satisfied my every want,
I would be King—
Of Stowe, Vermont.
I would haunt the secret loft where
They sell their special software
For lots and lots of jack.
I'd be bitch-slapped by Apple
Like an altar-boy at chapel—
If I only had a Mac.
5. Warren's You Must Have Been a Beautiful Baby
Didn’t Mom explain to you
A girl can be a 32,
And still be just as pretty as can be?
Didn’t Father ever stress
The high degree of riskiness
Attendant on cosmetic surgery?
If they didn't, surely now you see—
You must have had an amateur boob-job
By someone who's a whiz at collage.
Your bosom's badly bolstered
And poorly re-upholstered;
I deprecate your décolletage.
You're listing just a little to larboard,
And "Touche" is not as big as "Deloitte."
You were treated by a quack,
So demand your money back,
And, next time, buy direct from Voit!
Yep, I've never seen a funkier boob-job—
A boob-job made in Detroit.
6. Lauder's Roamin'
in the Gloamin'; Lauder and Grafton's A Wee Deoch-an-Dorris; Lauder's I Love a Lassie;
and Scott's Loch Lomond
Roamin' Willy Loman
Has come home at last to die.
Loman's the cognomen
Of a most successful guy;
When your sons are Hap and Biff,
You're a very lucky stiff.
Χαίρετε
νικώμεν,
Willy Loman!
Shouldn't we talk to Doris
Of her weekend faux pas?
Then if she should ignore us,
We'll bring in Pa and Ma.
There's a bun in the oven,
But she won't say whose bun.
—Can you say:
"Rubber baby buggy bumpers"?
That's right. Well done!
I love a brassie,
A niblick and a mashie,
And I'm keener than mustard on the links.
Yes, I'm keener than mustard,
But one thing has me flustered:
Frankly, my golf game stinks.
The wee bonnie banks now are food for the worms,
While the big, braw banks grow the stronger.
The Anchor and Dime are forgotten banking terms;
Even Manny Hanny Banks are no longer.
We're paid at the low rates and charged at the high rates;
The pirates are rich, and no wonder.
But me and my banker have not been introduced,
Since the bonnie little banks have gone under.
7. Loesser's Wonderful Copenhagen
Farcical, frivolous
Schopenhauer—
What a magnificent clown!
He can state a case
With so straight a face,
You would think
That pink
Was brown.
For fun-loving, fanciful
Schopenhauer,
Kidding Around is a creed.
Would our lives today
Be so light and gay,
Without
Schopenhauer,
Frisky and frolicsome—
Schopenhauer
To read?
8. Styne's Everything's Coming Up Roses
La Bohème
at the Met:
Songs as catchy as catchy can get.
I, of course, hum the tune.
Funny—everyone's turning up noses.
Dining out—Montrachet,
Where they serve me a piquant poulet.
I dig in—with a spoon.
Funny—everyone's turning up noses.
I shop Prada, Saks and Coco Chanel—
Yadda, yadda. Still, I'm persona non grada.
At a fête on the lawn—
There's been nothing but sunshine since dawn.
It's July, and it's warm.
There am I, true to form:
I strip down to my undies on the spot. (Well, it's hot.)
Funny—everyone's turning up noses and knocking me—
Everyone's turning up collars and cutting me—
Everyone's turning up volumes and shunning me—
Everyone's turning up noses at me—and for what?!
9. Barry's Born Free
King Kong,
The giant gorilla—
Imagine Godzilla
With two opposable thumbs.
King Kong,
The Simian Wonder!
He belches like thunder—
He needs one helluva Tums.™
Fay Wray—
Her bosoms are heaving.
Could Adam and Eve conceive
The love that they'll achieve?
Fat chance!
I'll bet my bandanna
That Adam's banana
Is no King Kong.
10. Judge & Williams's It's a Long Way to Tipperary
There's a wrong way
To tip a waiter,
And a right way,
I'm told;
And the right way
To tip a waiter
Is to cross his
Palm with gold.
Good guys
Give him C-notes;
Cheapskates,
Just a dime.
When the bon ton
Pay to tip a waiter,
It's payday—
Big time!
11. Powell's Pack Up Your Troubles in Your Old Kit Bag
Back up your tables and your mp3's
And save those files!
Then, even if your drive is prone to freeze,
You'll still be all smiles.
When the Cranes are Frasier-less,
They just make do with Niles;
So—
Back up your tables and your jpg's
And save those files!
12. Gershwin's Embraceable You
Inflate me,
My sweet, inflatable you.
Elate me,
Manipulatable you.
Two enormous knockers and a nice little rump—
All it takes is patience and a bicycle pump.
Your latex
Against my veteran flesh,
In Playtex,
Is almost better ‘n flesh;
And, when I push this button,
It's like banging with a kangaroo—
My automatable you.
13. Warren's Shuffle Off to Buffalo
When an avid cunnilinctor
Goes to penetrate your sphincter
And you feel that glow—
Oh—oh—oh—
Off 'll go your trigger,
Triggering a bigger O.
First, his tongue 'll do the hora
On your labia minora;
Then, he'll go real slow—
Oh—oh—oh—
Off 'll go your trigger,
Triggering a bigger O.
Your jus d'amour he'll stoop to savor,
As you ascend the stratosphere.
If he says, "Return the favor,"
Say, "We'll discuss that later, dear."
Try to picture every climax
As a scene in Super IMAX
With the sound turned low—
Oh—oh—oh—
Off 'll go your trigger,
Triggering a bigger—
Don't
