Poetic Interlude # 5-- Where Not To Go Looking For Jimmy Hoffa

We did not wrap him in a tent
And bury him in wet cement.

We did not dump him in a box,
Or sell his guts as week-old lox.

We did not use an acid-bath,
Or drop bits of him along some path,

He was not stashed like stolen goods,
Or left out rotting in the woods,

We did not crush him in a car,
Recycled into steel rebar,

We did not tear him limb from socket,
Or launch him into space by rocket.

We did not hide him in a bridge,
Or inside an abandoned fridge,

Though we did fold him once or twice,
He was not nibbled on by mice.

We did not trade him as old pawn,
Or mail him to Saskatchewan,

We did not brick him in some room,
Or inside Tutankhamun's Tomb.

He did not become green eggs and ham,
Served to death by Sam-I-Am,

We did not feed him to your dog,
Or chuck him in a hollow log,

He is not far, he is not near,
Or in the Southern Hemisphere--

We were very, very clever,
And you will never find him, ever!