Wednesday, August 31, 2011

Playing the Field


I really don’t think, when scanning the group
Of topics I’d wish to explore,
I’d come to a stop at panda bear poop
And say, “How I wish to know more!”

But federal grants and research awards
Are difficult things to attain,
And alternate fuel quite often accords
A seat in the public domain.

I’ll keep that in mind, if ever I’m up
For spending a night on the town,
And happen to sit, while having a cup,
Adjacent to Ms. Ashli Brown.

I’m sure that she’s bright, far brighter than most,
A whale to the fish in the sea,
But if she should raise her cup for a toast,
I’ll glance at her nails for debris.

I’m sure that awards and grants by the score
Will follow her sooner than late;
But chatting her up would seem such a chore,
If ever we went on a date.

I’ll find me a lass that studies the hare,
The elephant, fox or the gnu,
And not one who kneads the waste of a bear
Or studies digested bamboo.

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