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The Ballad of Stinking Mick

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Below is the poem entitled The Ballad of Stinking Mick which was written by poet DON JOHNSON. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

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The Ballad of Stinking Mick

The Ballad of Stinking Mick Now Mick hung close to a Butt verbose, And the cheese it ran like treacle, Some said it was on the bloody nose, That he lived, was thought unbelievable, For he was a hairy Wombat Louse, Hitchhiking on a vehicle, He tried sucking up to a Mouse, got dislodged by a Gay Boll Weevil, There came a blast, hot and sticky cast, Aroma, most unpleasant, With bowel movement, he was passed, Hot an steamy, flavoured, masked? Mick thought it effervescent, He’d spring and slide upon the tide, His gumboots trickled full, (Kiwi slippers) On a passing Rat he snagged a ride, High speed, for a Wombat Louse, I aint being snide, no bloody Bull, On a Tom-Tit sure he’d been before, The Wren had flown him high, Caught by a Cat, he did attack, with some ten thousands more, Puddy left with an open jaw, Thought and pondered bloody sure, Perplexed with thoughts of why? The food was flapping high, The itch stuck in his craw? Poor puddy bloody paw, Was reduced to sigh Should I this underscore, apply? This part I will deny, No lice no bloody moer….( new aussie slang) Don Johnson

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  1. Date: 6/24/2013 5:28:00 PM
    don't know nothing bout the slang, but I read it to my six yr old granddaughter, she liked it ;}

  1. Date: 6/19/2013 6:17:00 PM
    without a spell in little hell, we'd have no words to utter, cold here ewe see, the peewee pees, and then off he bloody flutters...