The inventor of snot ought to be
Strung up high from the nearest tree
Left there to dangle for all to see
Like this nose gel dangling out of me
A full box of Kleenex is simply no match
For the mass production of my nasal hatch
About half the stuff they just don’t catch
My eyes sure itch but I don’t dare scratch
I tried to sleep but I have to say
It’s like being water boarded by the CIA
The S.S. Night Night is adrift today
Headed towards the shoals of Big Snot Bay
The waves are high and the rocks are green
Bilge pump is busted I’m no merchant marine
Caught in the vortex of a mucus machine
Working on Kleenex box – seventeen
Nyquil, Benadryl, I’m not impressed
I’m a walking, talking, medicine chest
All I really want to do is get some rest
Next stop, some rum, honey – and lemon zest
Heavy on the rum
Copyright 2010 Patrick Granfors
Ron
Love,
Sage
Regis
Headed towards the shoals of Big Snot Bay
I hear there's some mighty 'Good Fishin' in Big Snot Bay,
And I sure could use a nice big bottle of rum myself, today!
Mark
Be always safe,
Karen
Anna
Still, in the right nose, it makes for a funny poem. Thanks for sharing your good humor, and I hope you dry up soon.
Connie