An 'ode to Bob

My love for a show

What I did not know when I got old,
Is that my nearest and dearest would be that of a show.

With a Bobby so dear, sweaty and full of such fear.
He peeks out his window, while griling and talking to his patties of beef,
A mustached man giving voices to circles of steer
is a man with a heart so full that it actually might queef.

With bright red glasses she dances so proud,
Is his dearest wife Linda singing out loud.
While she carries her tune, a little of key, she belts with such glee.
My dear sweet mother, a mischievous she.

With erotic friend fiction of expert fantasy,
Is Tina staring into her photographic butt memory.
With zombies and the many boy butts not to be
She is my dearest of friends, two cheeks, of an autistic butt meant to be.

With a keyboard full of farts and of songs,
Is th Gene-eist of Genes, a bottomless businessman with shoes so long.
A mommas boy, and a third sister, always there for a pact.
He is the musical poet always hiding a snack.

With her pink ears so tall and a slug army to conquer us all.
It is the jestering lawyer Louise who I'd give a jailtime call
While most think at 9, shes seems rather quite small,
But, quick, caution to all, because to trust her sweet smile will surely be your downfall.

Ah, yes, the family I choose
With unhurried visits to that re re re re opened lime green restaurant
Means that I will never and could never lose, the love that they share.
To be loved so perfectly for imperfections, for me, is a dream meant to be.