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by Hurdling Skooter


Bliss was it in that spawn to grow and thrive:

my six-foot tongue is very heaven.

All on its own it is alive

and goes for holidays in Devon.


It’s good I have another mouth,

although the second I keep hidden.

Since it resides a long way south

and makes my breath smell like a midden.


Eight arms and legs I have as well,

in all the right, and some wrong places.

So I can truly run like hell

and carry lots and lots of cases.


My skin is green, my eyes are red,

my hide is not a little scaly.

If I should climb into your bed

you’d know at once I’m not Bill Haley


Perhaps I’m not your cup of tea,

and not your dreamed of sleep companion.

But you could just sit on a knee

and keep your eyes shut while we carry on.


Oh please my darling don’t refuse,

don’t break my hearts by your rejection.

If you say yes, you just can’t lose.

I have a forty-inch… flat screen plasma television.

© Hurdling Skooter 2013


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