Popeye the Murderer

I'm Popeye the Sailor, I'm sure not Popeye Doyle.

Things went down hill when I married Olive Oyl.

Bluto showed up at the wedding and started a fight.

As usual, I ate my spinach and punched out his lights.

But I hit him too hard and I broke his spine.

I was arrested and now I'm doing hard time.

Olive was supposed to love me forever by honoring her wedding vows.

But she annulled our marriage because conjugal visits aren't allowed.

When I ate my spinach, I always kicked Bluto's butt, I could not lose.

But you'd better stay away from spinach to avoid ending up in my shoes.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This poem was inspired by the comic strip.

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