There once was a spaceman called Musk,
Who hollowed the bird to a husk,
We migrated and flew,
To find friends old and new,
And now we are fans of the tusk 🦣

#VerseThursday

@jonreed Love it, but the line before last and the first has the wrong meter and it throws it off. May I suggest the following variant:

There once was a man called Musk,
Who hollowed the bird to a husk,
We migrated and flew,
To friends old and new,
And now we are fans of the tusk

@freemo @jonreed

The tweeters all gave Musk the boot
As he rapidly burned through his loot
The blue bird is done
The place ain't no fun
And the survival of Twitter is moot 😎

@edrybicki @freemo @jonreed
And every techie, every nerd
Is now part of this friendly herd,
there is no hate speech and no fight
Despite not being verified
On every instance sounds the chatter,
cries hoorah the tusk is simply better

Follow

@LaD_Hallo

In musky lands that the pale moonlight brings,
There stands a tavern where it shines and it sings.
In this warm place eternal laughter does flow;
with a smile for each of the winds that will blow.

To seek this land out less must be so much more,
then set yourself free to drift to tusks's shore.
The familiar road finds unfamiliar friends door,
filled with mirth, merriment, magick, and lore.

When ready to pass open wide network gate,
a cool wind then blows that shows one their fate.
The room there well lit by passion's great fire,
it's smoke will hang thick from our love's own desire.

There in the sky dances god borealis,
and there on the bar sits the bust of the Pallas.
But never there seen is the raven of yore,
for only the wise can be king evermore.

There in the corner stands a gargoyle's head,
where out of it's mouth flows hot earthen lead.
Into a dirt cup it's flow does seek end,
but as shining gold it does then transcend.

The food and the drink shared to all those around,
Not one to the other was any one bound.
With plates of clear manna that did sparkle white,
and cups of ambrosia kept full through the night.

Here Elon's dust used in shakers to fill,
and surely dragon tails do remain in there still.
For what fool would eat from a dragon's great tail,
only to have all of their passions fail.

Moon's magick glow fills the room well dispersed,
While time's wanting path remains untraversed.
The moments found here are well unrehearsed;
The truth is abound, not found interspersed.

@edrybicki @jonreed

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