Out Sourcing Cupid
by Gerald A. McBreen
Gave his job to a cross-eyed, tongue-tied,
pigeon-toed, bowlegged Kewpie doll
with a hand full of darts to throw.
Now it's a shame there's something
strange about her aim.
Gave me a pain in a place I shall not name.
Oh, that replacement Cupid waddles
when she walks, dribbles when she talks.
But I don't think she is entirely to blame
for her errant aim.
So cross-eyed Kewpie-Cupid
throw, throw, throw your dart again.
And if you should pierce the heart
of the one I desire,
I'll be the happiest fellow
you have ever seen.
Throw, throw, throw that dart again.
High, high, higher if you can.
And then throw, throw, throw, it again.