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Click hereThere once was a young lady Gourmet
Heard that "Scrod" was a dish to be tried -
A fish (to be found in New Orleans)
With a platter of crabs on the side.
So off on the ole British Airways
With drinkies or two on the flight
A change in New York, then off down the coast
Arriving with dawn's early light.
She hailed a meandering taxi
And asked if the cabbie knew where
She could get "Scrod" as she fancied a bit
And the driver looked back at his Fare
"Well Goddamit" he said to our lady
"And I hope that you won't take offence
I've been asked many times but never before
Was it put in the Past Perfect Tense".
- Kelvin
I hope that afterwards they went to a good sea food restaurant were they could scrod - all over again...
This poem has been selected for listing in Wednesday's New Poems Review.<br>
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