Early Thursday, at Werner Bjoern’s funeral parlour,
An irksome occurrence had spurred his alarm, for
He’d learned, as it were, from Herr Bertram Von Berd,
(Of Big Bert Von Berd’s Morgue, up on Sherman & 3rd)
Who had heard LaVerne Berger (of Urns By LaVern),
Planned a merger that merged her with Earnest Fer’s Urns.
Disturbed, the mortician’s perturbed posture worsened,
And found him slumped under a rust-obscured hearse and
Insufflating urns of embalming preserves,
Werner heard Von Berd’s words make warm turds of his nerves.
“Curse LaVern Berger, that burdensome cur,” Werner slurred
To the unfurnished parlour and whirred,
“Though that worm, Earnest Fer is much worse, rest assured,”
Turning purple, he curtly conferred, vision blurred,
Well-aware that he’d (gurgling his terminal murmur),
Been merked per the infernal Fer-Burger merger.