Write in the Kisser

A portly man in Portland, Maine
Once asked for me for my name.
“I’m Inbred Fred,” I duly said,
Then asked him for the same.

“I’m Clayton Hennessey from Dayton, Tennessee,”
He informed me with a grin.
“Don’t ask where I’m going—there’s no way of knowing.
“I can’t even say where I’ve been.”

“Well, howdy there Mister,” I gushed like a blister.
“I surely am glad to have met ya.
“But my family is waiting so I must be skating,
“Though I promise I’ll never forget ya.”

“Now hold on there Freddy,” he barked in his teddy—
The lingerie stretched ‘round his gut.
“I may not be dressed yet, but I must protest at
“An exit that comes so abrupt.”

“Sir, I assure you,” I assured him, and more. “You
“Must not take offense at my leaving.
“It’s just that my calendar’s strained like a colander—
“I’m tied up from morning till evening!”

“Now calm yourself, son,” he soothed as I spun
On my heel toward my original destination.
“I’ll stop all this prattle and let you skedaddle
“If you’ll clarify one implication.”

“I’ll do what I can sir,” I promised in answer
To the man-whore’s intriguing request.
So unwrapping a cheddar stick, he cried, “Tell me, Frederick,”
“Why your name is so oddly expressed!”

I blushed at his question but planned my confession,
Then squeaked with a high-pitched inflection:
“Well, when granny’s your mother and daddy’s your brother,
“It’s a pretty straightforward selection!”

Clayton seemed shocked by my statement, just rocked
To the point where he started to sweat.
But then shaking it off, he gave a slight cough
And said something I’ll never forget.

“Since I was a youth, I have known but one truth,
“Which I embrace despite those who would damn me.
“So to quote the good vicar: Try to keep it in your knickers—
“And if you can’t, try to keep it in the family! ”