Here, at The Restaurant at the End of the Universe, Poetrysoup is on the menu! And to save our sacred website, perhaps the world ... We must entertain and enter vague conspicuous contests With a true Vogon vocabulary intent on an unworthy saving ... Or suffer the consequences of eternal annihilation Perhaps even infinite damnation of one's soul Through the suffering con consternation of constipation Sufphfphfpherrrring sassafras spewing smack! Suckin’ on crack, smack, crackling ass. Hacking in, ack, phlack, intergalactic gack! Snack on mo’ smack, mo’ splendiferous crack Are you listening in? You Peeping Toms of Vogsphere Ga head, sit next to me, if you please and please do Ahhhhchoo! ‘Scuse me as I sneeze slobbering goo on you N feel like pee pee peeing on your too too and DON’T! Don’t you dare say I was born in a zoo. A zoological biological infestation of poo Yeah you! You piece of pestilent phluck! Listen carefully, you meticulous muck muck Monstrous manhandling mush mush for brains Let it rain my rogue ramblings of the vulgar I gotta bone pickin’ poem to pick with y’all, With y’all you yucks! Who say yuck yuck yuck Like it was some masterful grace of critique of good luck Like the Word is the Sword, our words are like bullets Shooting squirming screaming squashing lead into gullets Exfoliating poets forcing their views onto you The World-Wide Whacky Web can go dark With worms who pretend to be humans Exasperating, masquerading Expressing themselves, exposing themselves Like extraterresticles with tentacles teasing Brain stems steaming in a boiling pot of coffee Melting in a muddy cesspool pfft of humanity Puking, phew, phonetically correct Can you con consciously connect with this This gibbering gibberous spew of goo poo Chunks o’ calcariferous unconscienced clues Inflicting this barf into poor daft ears, year after year, Over the hills, passed numerous black holes, Got over my fears of frolicking fibbing Blabbering blubbering, that obviously annoying disorder Of nerve ending never ending Hypochondriacal hopelessness of humanity’s Hubris to keep flicking Vogon vanity back and forth at thee With all my human inadequacies and quirky quarky qualities I hit the bong, bon bon bon voyage Boing! On and on ... and on ... and on .... I go I’m groin going growing going ... gone.