You are, indeed, my favourite quack
and on occasion, when I lack
I write, you promptly answer back.
You never give me hell or flack
those times when I am somewhat slack.
Among the sheep WE may be black
and in their hatred they attack,
lamenting that we surely quack
like ducks who've suffered one big whack.
They do get lost in the haystack
while searching for a cure for plaque.
I have been called a razorback
and frequently a maniac,
I smell the sting of ammoniac.
Attempts to travel piggyback
with us into the cul-de-sac
their minds quite clearly single-track,
ad hominem, we are a pack.
A non-conformist is a quack
perhaps a coprophiliac.
A widely practised, clever tach
is the assertion: yak-yak-yak.
I asked my cousin Jumpin' Jack
who hurt his sacroiliac
(while drinking Gallic Armagnac) ,
an active hypochondriac
and part-time egomaniac
he says 'I'll get my almanac'.
Herbert Nehrlich
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/twenty-eight-rhymes-for-quack/
