Poached Roach…
My hair itches,
My feet stink,
My crotch & underarms do reek,
But as long as I keep you in stitches,
My life's mission complete,
I am done and having my fun…
I sit here and never move,
Only to take a leak and poo,
No shower, no bath, no soap, nor shampoo,
You should never visit without calling, it would you behoove…
Even those who do live in Nature for weeks at a time,
Do smell better than I when I am writing and online,
Perhaps one day my home should be surrounded in lime,
Hey, at the very least, most of this one does rhyme…
If my stink does ooze,
From my bed while taking a snooze,
Be ye careful to approach,
My body and home a haven for the local population roach,
They do protect and nurture me in my cocoon during sleep,
Scuse’ me for now, as I have some eggs on poach…
© ed ~ 1/8/05
Love Tiny Stinky
Em... hmmm... that's ok, dearie... they say 'a man's home is his castle' (even if his castle is an outhouse! so there!) G*R*I*N!
Another dirty poem from the Matlack mansion! hehehehehe katy xox.
Take care,
Sherry