nsync in black and white

Fiction by Pen . . . . . not real, made up, purely intended for entertainment

The Story Of James Lance,

who Told Lies, and Came to a Sticky End

James Lance Bass told such dreadful lies
It made one gasp, and scratch one's eyes.
JC, who from his earliest youth
Had kept a strict regard for truth
Attempted to believe James Lance,
But never really stood a chance.
He might have done so, had not he
Discovered this depravity:
That once, towards the close of day,
James Lance, insisting "I'm not gay,"
But finding himself left alone
Went tip-toe to the telephone
And summoned, with a happy beam,
The Nsync touring pyro team.
Inspired by girlish cheers, and loud,
Proceeding from the frenzied crowd,
For quite an hour, the gallant men
Set up their pyrotechnics, then
Round and about the Lakeland site
began exploding dynamite.
Excited by the bursts of flame
And having very little shame
James Lance declared "It's time for fun!"
And promptly dialled nine-one-one.
The fire trucks rushed to save the dome
And James Lance took a fireman home.

* * *

It happened that, after some time,
JC had trouble with a rhyme
And thought the difficulty might
Be helped by going out one night.
He quite refused to take James Lance
(Who really, truly, could not dance)
A deprivation just and wise
To punish him for telling lies.
That night, a fire did break out
You should have heard poor James Lance shout!
You should have heard his shrieks of joy!
He really was a naughty boy.
To douse the flames the fire trucks came
—The mention of James Lance's name
Encouraging them to make haste
And pose with hoses firmly braced
And manly muscled chests displayed,
A feast of firemen on parade.
And therefore, when the smoke had cleared
The men, and Lance, had disappeared.

There is an actual reading of this poem, by me, available here, frightening as that sounds.



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