To Nathaniel, on His Birthday

He’s Dutch, and Canadian: both blonde and blue-eyed,
He plays on pianos and national pride.
“You ain’t Dutch, you ain’t much,” he’d tell me with bias:
On the whole, I would say though, God sent him to try us.

He moved from Canadia to Franklin’s new college
His departure bewailed, to the best of our knowledge,
Only by those who awaited him there.
Yep. A pain in the butt. A regular square.

But for all that, I miss him; a best friend indeed,
A man who would listen in moments of need.
Happy Birthday! Good luck on this trip ’round the sun.
God bless. And God Speed.And gosh darn it, have fun.

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The Thnak: A Tribute

This prefaces a short sketch about a new creature my room-mate and I thought up. It’s based off this short story: I always misspell the word “thanks” as “thnaks,” so I began wondering what a thnak would look like (on the same principle as the alothttp://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com/2010/04/alot-is-better-than-you-at-everything.html). I said to him, “well, it’s not a snack with a lisp,” and he said, “No, what if it is, like a little creature that everything snacks on,” and things kind of got hilarious from there. This little creature is irresistibly delicious, and is thus frightened of pretty much the whole world. Here’s the poem I wrote to honor the thnak.

Of all of God’s creatures, I pity the thnak:
He’s terrified all of the time.
For in all of the food-chains, he’s always the snack,
And tastes so delicious with lime.

He’s never about when a mealtime comes,
For he’s on every menu there is,
On the run – there he goes! with his heart in his toes,
With a whoosh and shriek and a whiz.

The taste of a thnak I could never turn down,
So delicious and charmingly light,
I apologize, thnaks, but we must face the facts:
You’re delicious. Pardon me. *Bite*