The Laughter House
by Hay Leno
(first in a series of cow poetry)
Elmer and Elsie and Bossy and I
(somewhat bored on a Saturday night)
Planned to look for the eve’s entertainment,
then go somewhere else for a bite.
Bossy suggested the “Laughter House”
which she said was a comedy place.
“It seems from the size of the venue,” she said,
“that they will have plenty of space.”
So I polished my hooves and braided my tail;
I was ready at half past nine.
The others came over and herded me out;
I confess I was feeling divine!
Our spirits were high, our faces all grins,
as we plodded along to the club.
We joked, we punned and we four-stepped about,
but wait now, my friend, here’s the rub:
After we squeezed through the double-wide chute,
and our tickets had all been bought,
It took only a whiff and a glance to work out
that it wasn’t the place we thought.
For the “S” that hung before “Laughter House”
was somehow removed from the wall,
And the evening we thought would be comedy,
was not a bit funny at all.
We barely escaped with our horns and our tails.
I’ll give you some bovine advice:
In English an “S” placed in front of that word
results in a cow sacrifice!
© 1999 RG Pletcher