J. B. McGruder
A Peninsular Poem
I've wandered about this peninsula
aimlessly lost an intruder
signs say East
when they should say West
It's the work of J. B. McGruder
Back in the day of old J. B.
his campfires were lit quite a plenty
A rouse it was
Does it work? It does!
MacClellan thought each man was twenty
By Bubs McKeag