Now, I eat sold bacon a lot
Like the people who'd leave it not,
On Sundays watching the sharp knives
Bent on ending the pigs' poor lives...
Now, I guess it is less water
For cooking pig's son or daughter;
Enough of it owns already,
The bodily supply steady.
A shaking tooth for sold bacon,
To guys with toothache I beckon;
Bad teeth would in its flesh all sink;
About this do not even think...
But dislike I do The Slit-Eyed;
Often stupid down to its hide
Brandishing snouts besides numskulls
Its absurd smell one's senses dulls
And I know it: A grunting bunch
Though they do not as part of lunch.
Categories:
numskulls, animal, creation, devotion, food,
Form: Rhyme
Now I am sitting alone in this
Funny wagon with my boom box
and minding my own business
along with a bunch of numskulls
who thinks I am a nutcase like them—
What a drag! And they think we are
all going to a Funny Farm where
they take those who go bananas!
But I know better because
I am good and dandy--
One hell of a cockscomb dude!
All I am doing is
bamboozling them for now,
Behaving as if I am one of them—
These dolts, dim-witted blockheads!
But, YOU, who’s reading this,
can vouch for me, won’t ya?
Why? Because you are as cool as I am,
It takes one to know one!
You catching my drift, ain’t ya?
~07/16/15
~"Colloquialism" contest by Laura Leiser
Categories:
numskulls, humorous,
Form: Free verse