Dear Abby

I am writing to you
And to your sister Anne,
So if you can’t help me,
Maybe your sister can.

I just met the woman
That I want to marry
But how to tell my folks
Might be a little hairy.

When I met her she was
A lady of the night
But she gave all that up
So she could learn to fight.

She’s just the kind of girl
That I want for my mate.
She’s now heavyweight champion
Of almost every state.

Even though she’s become
The Jell-O Wrestling Champ,
She still found time to join
The local nudist camp.

I’ve yet to meet her folks
Except by U.S. mail
Because right now thy’re both
Locked up in county jail.

Her brother’s in there too.
She says he’s doing time.
Because he didn’t know
That lazy was a crime.

Her body really is
A most endearing sight
She has got weird tattoos
But they are all spelled right.

She smokes a corncob pipe
And wears a little rose,
That dangles from a chain
Out the side of her nose.

She stays in bed ‘til noon
Except some days she may
Get up in time to meet
Down at the double A.

My folks said they’d love her
In spite of all of that,
But I’m scared to tell them
That she’s a Democrat?

I’ve already written about my friend Rita in Louisiana who always wants me to write funny poems. She and her husband Cliff visit us every year or so and always bring a pine seedling. We planted the first one in the lake yard and joked about renaming the ranch “Lonesome Pine”; then the next year, “Two Pine Ranch”, etc. I think we are up to “Five Pine Ranch” now, the first one being rather large.

I was thinking of Rita when I wrote Dear Abby, not because of the pines but because she thinks that I don’t know. Anyway, I’m not going to hold it against her.


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