On First Looking Into Groening's Homer
Much have I wandered on television's roads.
Many cowboy and detective serials and sitcoms have I seen.
Round many reruns of Cannon have I been,
Which the late night channels in fealty to Quinn Martin Productions hold.
But never did I breathe the pure serene,
Until Matt Groening began merchandising The Simpsons loud and bold.
Then felt I like some watcher of Desperate Housewives,
When a new piece of salacious titilation masquerading as a plot twist swims into his ken;
Or like stout Eastwood when with eagle eye,
He looks at a street punk with a wild surmise,
And shoots him, over and over again.
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