Boffo

He totes a myriad of things, and brings a certain tone.

He’s laden down with cargo, so much to lug alone.

He consistently penultimates, cavorts with insects, too.

His imminent arrival looms as large as typhoons do.

 

The stimuli’s diluted, so it comes out half-computed.

 

Oh-Boff-o.

 

When they mention Boffo,

I take it under trust.

Spotted last in Downer’s Grove.

Believe in him, I must.

 

He brings a game of Battleship and Madame Bovary.

He has utilized a trailer, dragging more things in the lee.

There’s granola bars, chicken with stars, and other what the heck.

Boffo’s driving 'round the corner, not yet breathing down your neck.

He’s investing slugs in a fiduciary role.

But, Boffo’s claiming nothing, he don’t wanna pay the toll.

He’s hand-abiding vinyl siding with true elegance.

He’s made the most of buttered toast, in fact, it’s down his pants.

 

He isn’t very vicious, he’s just doing what he wishes.

 

Oh-Boff-o.

 

RSVP Boffo.

‘Cause I can’t find you here.

Without you, I can’t trust my eyes,

much less can find my ears.

 

He’s packing Chicklets in his pocket.

Has a student’s grasp on Brecht.

Control of the algae market.

Wonders where his shoelace went.

He’s even bringing Ross Perot to stoke your gathering.

Not like I’m in a lather, but I’d rather that he ring.

 

When he splits the tape a winner, itt’l put you off your dinner.

 

Oh-Boff-o.

 

You must arrive in person,

not just be on your way.

You’re sure to cause aversion,

however long you stay.

 

He’s imminent, to be succinct.

In the red zone with the pick.

Passing right through your precinct.

Hoping Sergeant Burke’s out sick.

He’s entering your zip-code. A-waiting in the wings.

Boffo’s hit the mother-lode. I guess he brought some things.

 

I’m sure, when he arrives, itt’l be a big surprise!

 

Oh-Boff-o.

 

There seems to be a slow motif

to your eccentric scene.

Like ordering some custom paint

or nurturing a bean.

 

He found a dramaturge and a little stick that glows.

He called us from the drugstore, why he stopped there, heaven knows.

Now he’s motoring the distance, like a steamship toward the bay.

Stand up and greet your Uncle Boff.

He’s not as bad as they all say.