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Chomp
Six men had found a kiosk in a clearing in the woods
They ordered up some hotdogs from the chef of meaty goods
One tried to boost his appetite by going for a stroll
His friends thought he’d gone home… but he’d been devoured whole
Five men were eating hotdogs but one had to take a pee
He nipped into the woods where he would let his pee go free
He found an oak where he could pee and nobody would see
And was eaten by a crocodile hid behind the tree
Four men were eating hotdogs and one missed his childhood friend
A friend more like a brother and on whom he could depend
His friend had been gone longer than he thought he might intend
He went to search the woods and met the croc… then met his end
Three men were eating hotdogs but their number now was dwindling
They’d gone into the woods and they were not collecting kindling
One said they’re playing tricks on us and marched into the trees
The crocodile only left the bit below his knees
Two men were eating hotdogs and they eyeballed one another
Could it be that one was an assassin undercover
One nibbled at his hotdog before getting to his feet
Then headed off and met the croc he didn’t know he’d meet
One man gazed at his hotdog with a newfound clarity
He put aside that hotdog for he knew where he should be
And now he tells the world he’s seen the writing on the wall
His placards say, “Ban hotdogs… for they’re gonna kill us all!”
Copyright ©
Terry Flood
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