They Are Recalling What?
By Elton Camp
It made a good breakfast, I think
There’s nothing like a sausage link
Combined with eggs and grits
With my day, it exactly fits
Now they’d like to get it back
Of rubber gloves, they lost track
Into the sausage they got ground
That’s why they’re not around
I’d return them, but don’t know how
As they are too far out of reach now
Do my guts now contain a rubber ball?
If so, I certainly can’t feel it at all
Of one thing I don’t have any doubt
Given some time, it will bounce right out