Mother In-Law’s Tongue

In this woke world I’d soon be hung If I had had your spiteful tongue How ironic that its wagging Only stopped when you were gagging And as I tried to grab the shard Of chicken bone that was stuck hard I grappled with what I could grip And when you flinched… I heard a rip You spasmed like you’d just been stung And left me with your severed tongue My sense of humour must be black: Your tongue is mounted on a plaque I’ve kept it from my wife and kids To keep my marriage off the skids So they don’t know that though you’re dead A bit of of you is in my shed So there I sat; my hide of choice And thought about your nagging voice And when your tongue began to jiggle I won’t pretend it made me giggle It made a move like licking lips And flicked a few saliva drips It looked ’round with its probing tip Then sensed me… and it gave me gyp