Stuff In Your Mouth
The stream of office quiet was suddenly sliced
When a co-worker violently kicked out of his chair
And angrily emitted, “For the love of *@#*% Christ.”
He carried on with clearly more rage to share,
“What the *@#*% gives you the *@#*% right
To *@#*% my *@#*% life and *@#*% bare,
Your *@#*% can *@#*% out of the *@#*% sand.”
I began to fear he’d seriously pop an important gland
So when his vulgarity stammered down to a pause,
I jumped in with confusion to slow down his cause,
“Woo wee, you have got stuff in your mouth
That I would not even hold in my hand.”
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