Abner Fats Tranquillity, CA, USA

Abner has been writing poetry for about forty years. The only things he enjoys more, are knitting, and eating fried pork butt. He's a self-employed plumber, but he plans to take acting lessons because his lifelong dream is to become a Hollywood heartthrob on the big screen. Abner says, "Whenever I lay down on the couch for too long, I get a stiffness in my neck that can last for hours, unless I massage it, or use a heating pad on it. I once rubbed an ointment on it, but that didn't help much." Visit the exhibit of Abner's cousin, poet "Clifferd Goose."

Bring It Over Hello there Fred and how are you? I see you've bought a coat. Bring it over after six o'clock and I'll feed it to my goat. Hello there Earl and how are you? I see you've bought a car. Bring it over after six o'clock and I'll smear it with some tar. Hello Mrs. Bates and how are you? I see you've won a moose. Bring it over after six o'clock and I'll let it chase my goose. Hello there Herb and how are you? I see you've bought an ox. Bring it over after six o'clock and I'll let it wear my socks. Hello there Bob and how are you? I see you've bought a shirt. Bring it over after six o'clock, if it goes good with your skirt. Hello Mrs. Jones and how are you? I see you've baked some pies. Bring them over after six o'clock and I'll throw them in your eyes. Hello there Roy and how are you? I see you've found a pig. Bring it over after six o'clock and I'll make it wear your wig. Hello Mrs. Cobb and how are you? I see you've bought some mace. Bring it over after six o'clock and I'll spray it in your face. Hello there Sam. This grandfather clock, it's yours if you insist. Bring it over after six o'clock and I'll strap it to your wrist. Hello there Carl. That egg you have, I see you're going to boil it. Bring it over, but not before six, cause I'm usually in the toilet.

Face Trouble Garbage face, garbage face, how I love my garbage face. When I'm not in front of a mirror, how I miss it. I wish my lips was long enough to kiss it. Loony face, loony face, how I love my loony face. I walked over and kissed my bullfrog "Clyde," then I turned around and he committed suicide. Crazy face, crazy face, I almost like my crazy face. I walked over and kissed my big fat hound, and he jumped out the window with the window down. No-good face, no-good face, how I like my no-good face. I walked over and kissed my fat baboon, and he put another door through my living room. Insane face, insane face, It's a little bit hard to like my insane face. So I'll just say in this short piece, I just can't wait to kiss another fat beast.

All poems Copyright © 1997 Abner Fats. All rights reserved.