Dick Tracy by Mike Curtis and Charles Ettinger for December 20, 2010

‘Twas the week before Christmas and all through the strip Nothing was stirring, it was the same old chit Our heads were all hung with the feeling of despair For we all knew that Locher did not even care The readers were all filled with a great mindless dread They knew it would have been better to have just stayed in bed Yo mamma said you shouldn’t read this worthless bleeep She knew that we were all being played for a sap When all through the board there arose such a trivial matter Someone was complaining about the magpies unceasing natter Away to the comments my fingers did flash To tell not to read them and blow it out their ash They complained at best we were the lowest of the low And that Locher was a genius, well don’tcha know The sycophants chorus was strong so it would appear So I just sat back and cracked open a beer Their little old drivel was the same old shtick You had to wonder how they could be so thick Putting shame to eagles the magpies, they came Pointing out that the defense was really inane His lack of effort shows all through his work You can only surmise that Locher is a jerk The point of this poem, I think you all knows Is that this strip thoroughly blows I know that this poem may seem clichéd and trite But it’s not as bad as Dick Tracy’s plight.

@ rightwingmoron, great job yesterday. Thanks mrbribery, Michael McMillan, Sydney and Nvash. @ Michael Mc., some come easy, others not so. Some are abandoned along the wayside. I have several pages of stuff that I did not finish. Song parodies are easier because the structure is already there. Until I started writing things here I never composed a poem in my life, though I have dabbled with haiku.