A Treatise on Mankind in the Universe
 But first that member
 Of the master race must
 Tell me where the Camembert
 Cheeses have gone.
 The second turd was ever
 So brown, with only the faintest
 Hint of a tint of green, as though
 Someone in another stall
 Was thinking of a "lonely year
 On the storm-tossed sea."
 I am not nearly
 As bald as I was, dear
 Martha, but the weave
 Is so much more painful that I
 Had imagined than even if my father
 Could return from that sojourn
 Among the shades to kiss me
 Once more in approbation, I should
 Have to instruct him, "Only
 On these three follicles, sir, the ones
 With neuralgia."
"This world is complete and unabridged in contents
and is manufactured in strict conformity with
wartime regulations for saving paper."   
         Rousing Closer
         "The Frat Boys' Mixer"
                 (to the tune of "To Wallace Stevens in Heaven")
 Riunite on ice,
 & c.