There once was a poet named Corso
who had a bad gland in his torso.
But, before cancer nailed him,
beat critics once hailed him
as, like, Kerouac, only more so.
He was a one-hit, one-joke guy from 50 years ago,
One-hit, one-joke guy from 50 years ago,
A one-hit, one-joke guy from 50 years ago,
Now he's history.
(d) September 16th, 2003