Another in the series of dueling poems with Bob Salzman

To and Fro
17 September 2002

I wrote some rhymes about my heart
And thus this series made its start
I smugly thought my words were smart
But yours I see are off the chart

It looks as if I've years to wait
Before I'm Poet Laureate
Because through some cruel twist of fate
My dear friend Bob is Bob the Great. 

I cannot yet concede this race
For shame would follow and disgrace
And if that were to be the case
I couldn't ever show my face

So when I get home (late at night)
And find the house is dark, not light
And Roaster's sleeping really tight
I know that I'm compelled to write.

I strain my brain both hard and long
While you compose your words to song
Wait! Competition just sounds wrong
Cooperation made us strong.

For what this is, is to and fro
That much now I've come to know
Lets take it then where it may go
And it will give us cause to crow

Some grand theme is the thing we need
To carry forth this noble deed
There's love, there's sex, there's death, there's greed.
Will you decide or should I lead?

We have to think of something bright
For when we start we must start right.
Or else our epic will sound trite.
But since exhaustion is my plight
I know its time to say good night.

P. S. Please give me a day or two
I'll need some time to answer you.

Sept 18
Dear Stan:

Competition for you has always been a carbuncle,
You never were one for crying out "Uncle!"
So let's see where this saga goes,
Where it ends, no one knows.

We could trade verses in a cooperation vane
But that might be boring, even a pain
I rather enjoy our fine repartee
So if that's o.k. with you, it's fine with me

Remember that famous trip to Quebec?
When after a week of punning we both were a wreck.
We punned almost everything, it turned out like dreck
But we continued, just for the the heck

When you sit down at night without hesitation
Prefering the mental to manual masturbation
Maybe you should have taken a vacation
And leave more important things for cogitation

But no, you had to start this anew
Just to see where all this might take you
So here we go, again with this spew
And if you don't like it, then screw you!

It's time for me to get back to work
Here at Westfield I can no longer shirk
I anxiously await your creative reply
'Cause you're at least as good as me, and that is no lie!

Be WEll!

Bob