Greeting Card Maker | Poem Art Generator

Free online greeting card maker or poetry art generator. Create free custom printable greeting cards or art from photos and text online. Use PoetrySoup's free online software to make greeting cards from poems, quotes, or your own words. Generate memes, cards, or poetry art for any occasion; weddings, anniversaries, holidays, etc (See examples here). Make a card to show your loved one how special they are to you. Once you make a card, you can email it, download it, or share it with others on your favorite social network site like Facebook. Also, you can create shareable and downloadable cards from poetry on PoetrySoup. Use our poetry search engine to find the perfect poem, and then click the camera icon to create the card or art.



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Ape
You haven't finished your ape, said mother to father,
who had monkey hair and blood on his whiskers.


I've had enough monkey, cried father.


You didn't eat the hands, and I went to all the
trouble to make onion rings for its fingers, said mother.


I'll just nibble on its forehead, and then I've had enough,
said father.


I stuffed its nose with garlic, just like you like it, said
mother.


Why don't you have the butcher cut these apes up? You lay
the whole thing on the table every night; the same fractured
skull, the same singed fur; like someone who died horribly.
These
aren't dinners, these are post-mortem dissections.


Try a piece of its gum, I've stuffed its mouth with bread,
said mother.


Ugh, it looks like a mouth full of vomit.
How can I bite into
its cheek with bread spilling out of its mouth? cried father.


Break one of the ears off, they're so crispy, said mother.


I wish to hell you'd put underpants on these apes; even a
jockstrap, screamed father.


Father, how dare you insinuate that I see the ape as anything
more thn simple meat, screamed mother.


Well what's with this ribbon tied in a bow on its privates?
screamed father.


Are you saying that I am in love with this vicious creature?
That I would submit my female opening to this brute? That after
we had love on the kitchen floor I would put him in the oven, after
breaking his head with a frying pan; and then serve him to my husband,
that my husband might eat the evidence of my infidelity .
.
.
?

I'm just saying that I'm damn sick of ape every night,
cried father.
Written by: Russell Edson