Poem by Bobby Goosey, ABOUT GOUT

 

Bobby Lee Goosey

                                                                        About Gout

I cannot no more get about.
My big toe’s swollen up with gout.
This bout with gout results from stout,
Not scotch, not rum, not gin, but stout.
 
Drink vodka, friend, drink ale or flout
Indecency: drink beer, you lout.
But if you wish to get about—
Avoiding bouts with gout—not stout.
Eschew, avoid dark Guiness stout;
Precisely it occasions gout!
 
Tonight I’m drinking Rebel Shout,
Good Southern sourmash, no more stout.
My gout is up and strolls about,
It just walked out, my gout’s gone out!
The perfect cure for gout is Shout,
Thanks be to thee, sweet Rebel Shout
(Although it’s illegal these days).
 
[from Bobby Goosey’s Compendium of Perfectly Sensible Nonsense]