Below Ground

Parting my curtains that bright sunny morning I took in the garden, my mood took a hit My facial twitch surfaced again without warning My lawn had acquired a nocturnal zit They don’t stop at one: No, lots more were pending An underground demon had just declared war He’s munching my worms which needed defending I’m having that critter... I’ve done it before I picked out the nastiest, most evil trap Designed to cast moley asunder A trap meant to mangle that pointy nosed chap ... A trap that he simply dug under I set a new trap filled with poison and worms To kill him as soon as he found it My wife tells me now that I’m King of the squirms For that bloody mole went around it I grabbed a big hammer and sat by a hole A time to be patient... not slow I was quick but inaccurate whacking that mole And the hammer came down on my toe I’m frantic, I’m livid, I’m limping around To the shed where the tools were all put Then, thrusting my garden fork into the ground I stick it right through my good foot I grabbed a grenade (which I googled and made) I shoved it and crawled really fast My lawn was destroyed like there’d been an air raid I wasn’t quite clear of the blast Two weeks have gone by and I’m head to toe plastered My wife wears a mask against germs She tells me we’ve still got that velvety bast*rd And so she been buying it worms.