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Poets' Garage



A first-class baby band of three
Once charmed our neighborhood
By playing classic rock 'n roll
As well as any could.
Packs of babies crawled in mass
From houses blocks away,
Then squeezed together on a lawn
To hear them sing and play.

The band shook rattles, plucked guitar,
Drummed on coffee cans,
And sang their greatest Ga-Ga hits
To all their diapered fans.
Our hearts were crushed when they broke up
And canceled all their shows,
Because the singer threw a fit
And bit the drummer's nose.

--William Shakespeery




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