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Hockney, by David Hockney
Robert L. Martin

Beakman

Beakman with the big big nose,
a hose nose that grows and grows,
A shnoz that reaches to the limits,
a sneezing louder than Mrs. Timits,
 
an echo heard around the world,
a blast of wind though swiftly swirled,
round and round and loud and loud,
a hearty sneeze up above the crowd,
 
A shnoz of a disproportionate size,
a Pinocchio complete without the lies,
a face like a flag pole without the flag,
a hopscotch crazy man doing a zig zag,
 
a man buying a car with no windshield,
to put his shnoz inside the empty field,
a man laying on his back at the camp,
holding up the tent to hang up a lamp,
 
a search for a mate with an inward nose,
room for the kissing for his big nose hose,
ooh la la, he’s such a sexy hot romantic,
a man, a lunatic, a flirt worth fanatic,
 
Beakman, the man of birdman kinfolk
with the beak the size of the tallest oak,
a man of greatness to beat the odds,
to reach the limits with his shnoz.

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