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.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
