I don’t like musky toes
(their scent assaults my nose).
They don’t ‘think’ diddly squat.
They gather . . . a bunch,
gnaw on me for lunch
but I’ve got a hunch
they’ll soon be ‘what-nots’!

I don’t like musky toes
(like rot, musky toes ‘blow’).
Where they touch it hurts, swells.
The lesson: life bites
with them in my ‘sights’!
I gave them last rites . . .
crept under my nails.

I don’t like musky toes
(and now ev’ryone knows)
that I blew them away.
I would come runnin’
but toes are achin’ . . .
musky toes flyin’.
Now winged . . . I’m their prey!