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Array
(
[sid] => 21998
[catid] => 1
[aid] => Mick
[title] => My Pretty Paperboy
[time] => 2003-08-17 07:45:00
[hometext] => If you get your paper on time, who cares?
[bodytext] => Maurice is my paperman, A better couldn't be, At five each morning, check the clock, my paper comes to me. We live in unit on the floor entitled number one, No problem ever did we have 'Til taken by his son. So it went for week or two Then, I began to note, Later came the paper and sometimes it would float. By that I mean, no matter what, if rain was on the ground, That son of his is later still The paper soaken found. We pay by check and so it is The kid we never see, One morn I laid in wait for him, To tell him how to be. An overhang is by my door Just put the paper under, I see the kid, I grab the kid, and there I made a blunder. This little boy was not a boy A little girl was she, Maybe twenty I would guess And pretty for to see. Her teeth were pearls, her eyes were green Her skin had peachy glow, A perfect female kid was she what else I wouldn't know. She promised it would be alright I took her at her word, The next day it rained real hard The paper, SPLASH, I heard. I guess I really have to say, she's such a pretty child, I cannot yell at such a feast, instead I feel quite mild. I'll shut my mouth and clench my teeth And nothing will I say, This pretty child's sacrosanct and she will get her way. [comments] => 3 [counter] => 228 [topic] => 7 [informant] => norm [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => HumorPoetry )
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