Edited by Jill Carpenter.
Bellowing basso profundo, pleased
to
be bombastic best,
“Choose
me,” he teased,
“above
the rest.”
The
wink of knowing promise,
the
sly come-hither grin,
the
King is in his palace--
let
every maiden in!
Green
girls wide-eyed with wonder
emerge
from khaki goo
to
marvel at the thunder
and
rock the pond anew.
Stadium
skies and fireflies,
a
spotlight moon. He's set to
croon.
Wet
algae tresses
quake
with stresses.
A
fling of flirty burps
is
answered charmingly with chirps,
until,
for Elvis Minisaurus,
the
ladies swell a fervid chorus
that
sets the slimy waters steaming
beneath
their hot and fevered dreaming.
No
wonder that such skilled gyrations
beget, and soon, fresh froggy nations!