I was in my zappo, trying to light-up
While on my couch, hippo; then along came
Guitar in hand, he realizes, there's no band
To play, sound track film, for Frank Cappra
Called, Yambo Yamba Queen
Didn't do any good, at least for their cause
For their cause, was in vain
No one wanted to cry,
Zappo, Zippo, Hippo...Cristo!
So they escaped, and the story wasn't shaped
Frank Zappa, my friend,
Said, Frank Cappra
Don't bother playing your guitar, that way
You're not making sense,
On any given day
Amazing...another senseless you and I
Zappo, Zippo, Hippo,
Away with your damn manuscript,
Yamba, Yambo Queen
Frankie, the worst I had ever seen.
By: Juli Monat
Copyright (c) 2013
© Copyright 2016 Juli Monat. All rights reserved.
Essay / Humor
Poem / Poetry
Script / Horror
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