I'm tickled to the marrow

by Humpty Dumpty and Mia Farrow,

but how far will it carry,

this giddy Mia Marrow ferry?

Will anyone hear my shriek and call

from up the darkish Dumpty wall?

Perhaps I shall sail and be too far gone

with not a trace of a Farrow liaison?

Or with no functioning chute at all,

per chance I'll jump off Sir Humpty's wall

Either way it's a tarnished tall tale told

that will leave all the publishers stale and cold

but the pencil will have done its job,

to prove I'm a grand poetic slob

and you will have understood my aim

to rhyme and to play a poetic game