A particularly pulse-pounding part of a post-able Paffooney is the Looney-Tooney side of cartoonies.
A good Paffooney, a wise Paffooney, a particularly Buffooney Paffooney…
Requires a certain something… an attention to detail
Scraggles here demonstrably demonsters, er demonstrates, the detail in the devil, er, devil in the details…
With inexplicable and despicable gloves on hands we never see…
And Looney eyes that at once appear wise and simultaneously devise the kind of satirical reprise that can surprise and infinitely infantilize…
He’s sorta creepy with eyes that aren’t sleepy and expressions not so deepy…
And his smile will spread a mile and is also infantile…
And the rat that he has caught has a shape that’s overwrought and full of little thought,
But never will he kill it and fill it full of millet,
Cause a mouse can be a friend to the bitter better end.
And so this poem don’t rhyme… or does it? And it has no theme or prime… or was it?
Just silly nonsense words on a canvas all unfurled in Paffooney Looney Language with each sentence stitched and curled.
Catch a Falling Star 