Skunk Poems

if I had a skunk

if I had a skunk
I’d blame all my gas on him
it’s lots of gas

she who likes animals

She was a proud Osage who loved her tribe, her family and her skunk.
He had adopted her when he was a baby; he loved her so….
Will he spray me? Potential suiters asked, a bit afraid of this fluff ball.
Only if he does not like you, Girl who Loves Animals replied.

Her father sat at the edge

Bucking the Skunk Theory

Skunk or a deer  - 
    what was the varmint?
'Cuz Noah's buck naked,
    without any garment!   (Gen 9:21)

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In response to Drunk as a Skunk by Gershon Wolf

Drunk as a Skunk

    Noah, ‘a righteous man
      pure in his generations’                  (Genesis 6:9)
    spent a year in the Ark
      ‘til on Mt. Ararat it

Dead Skunk Season

Born and raised a city girl, I moved to Colorado,
married a handsome cowboy I call my 'desperado.'
One night we were making love beneath the moon,
snuggled together. Oh, how that man could spoon,
when I caught a whiff of something awfully stinky.
I said, "Darlin,' are you doing something kinky?"

He laughed out loud and said, "Honey, get inside.
You've

Dead Skunk Season

again a dead skunk on the road nearby
        I can smell it's musk drifting on the breeze
but darn . . .  I feel sorry for it, I really do
no soul deserves to die that way
       oh, I recall the time
one chased

Dead Skunk Season

Dead Skunk Season, it goes best on a roast,
then sliced nice and thin, and served up on rye toast!

Dead Skunk Season, oh it costs, but you’ll pay!
A dash in the eggs drives the in-laws away!

Dead Skunk Season, no live critters were harmed;
the label says road-kill, but don’t be alarmed!

Dead Skunk Season, Gordon Ramsay’s a fan;
When

Dead Skunk Season

I’ve been silly, willy nilly,
Not your neighborhood, hillbilly, 
Silly is, as silly does,
Silly whiz, I was.

If my brain goes clink, clink, clink,
And my skull, begins to shrink,
What I think, my thinking got,
Linking think to thought.

Now I leave you, for this reason,
I'm alive, in dead skunk season.

Dead Skunk Season

After driving for miles on the highway,
I noticed a lump near my driveway:
a black and white chunk,
"Omigosh! It's a skunk
and he's gone to the 'Sweet By and By' way!"

I could tell it was dead because he
gave off a real hum. It was funky!
It was reeky and rank;
it was stale and it stank
and the stench of

skunk waddled through our dog door

ebony skunk waddled through our dog door yesterday afternoon
don’t worry said husband, he will probably leave very soon
instead, he invited in guests, two monkeys and a baboon
they decided to stay with us during the latest monsoon

the dogs did not care for the skunk, chased him up the hallway
he gave me a grin, that said “don’t

fragrance of a skunk

pungent skunk like smell
my nose feels assaulted
eyes quickly water
horrible stench makes me wail
i quickly see Bambi's friend

This Poem Ain't Junk

Drunk, in a funk, a lowly punk, I shrunk from a skunk.  It stunk. Away I slunk.  I too stunk, I thunk.  I took a dunk and sunk.
A chunk or hunk of B.S. or bunk?  Please debunk.

skunk power

fuzzy yellow eyed striped skunk
rapidly waddling in the woods
waiting for a grey owl to get her
unaware of my presence
I hold still, making no noise
respecting her spray power

Dead Skunk Season

Watch your eyes to the road and the view
but hold your nose over the next hill.
A skunk is dead on the side of the road
the kill is not fresh, but three days old.
The stink of the kill lingers on and on
a smell so bad that needs to be gone.
Then seven more miles down the same

Junk Skunk

Jump up pumping junk.
Skunk spray pumping stunk.
Pumping skunk jumped junk.
Junk skunk pumping stunk.

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