In the early days of radio
constant mayhem entertained
those who tuned in to Flecker
the Bumbling Mesmerist,
whose star, Ritz Silverfarb,
soon earned enough
to give up his rocket ship
upholstering business. Big deal
when the show offered to
broadcast from the first town
that would change its name
to Flecker the Bumbling
Mesmerist, which Flisk,
British Columbia (last stop
before heading east
on the Salmo-Creston Pass), eagerly

did.

These days, the children of Flecker
the Bumbling Mesmerist
have no idea
who you’re talking about
when you mention Ritz Silverfarb,
whose statue looms in front
of the town’s post office,
nor can they name a single
episode of the radio show
that put their town on the map.
But old Mr. Snitchell,
who sits on his porch
awaiting a plate
of ham sandwiches
(no crusts)
prepared by his wife, Snooky,
who passed 13 years ago –
why, he can spiel
every bit of dialogue

(You want I should stack the chickens one on top of the other?)

that ever entered
the ears of those

(Who invited this tedious nudnik to our seder!)

who crowded around
old radio sets

(So I advised Mrs. Haftwurcel to adopt a ventriloquist dummy!)

listening to the rollicking
adventures of Moishe Flecker

(Soon we’ll all be little flecks – just bupkis – in the void … )

every Sunday evening
at seven. Then

suddenly

everything revolved around
hula hoops, and
a conscienceless wall
of crackling flames
razed the land.

This

has been brought to you
by Snip Snip Woof Woof,
the most reliable
dog clippers in the galaxy.
Princey will lick your face
all day long as the
children look up
from their Etch A Sketches
and chuckle.