A Tibetan monk takes a wizz in a stream,
And verily he beholds a most bizarre dream,
And dream it be not, though he cannot tell,
For an ape and a crane are going at it pell-mell.
Wherefore came the crane to fight with the ape?
Well, the ape had gotten randy, and swore that it'd rape
The very next thing that he saw that noon,
And so tried to get a piece of the feathery poon.
The poon looked so good, but his eye was to fault,
And wouldn't you know it? That eye get pecked out.
So he fled to the forest, and gave up his quest
To plant his ape eggs in that fowl's sweet nest.
Meanwhile the dazed monk, who was standing mid-stream,
Swore he'd never had such a bizarre daydream;
Yet he too caught a glimpse of the feathery poon
And created a style that would get him a piece, too;
For he used the crane first and the ape's movements last,
Knowing if he couldn't get crane poon, he could get some ape ass.