My name is truly L. B.
But, as one can plainly see,
People around the world,
Have their minds furled
And none can seem to agree.
Sometimes, they call me L. B.,
At other times, just plain B.
And then there's B. L.,
And others I can't tell----
NOW---Why can't they all agree?
Now--- those who print a mailing list,
On their brain, must have a cyst
For they send their mail to L,
Which doesn't set too well,
And I'd like to give their nose a twist.
One name my sibs gave was Beezer,
Designed to be the ultimate pleaser.
But---whatever they've called me,
None has enthralled me -----BUT
By now you suspect, I'm just an old teaser.
By L. B. Strawn
October 4, 1998