“No Rufuz, I do not have any fleas…”

Will you look at that, dad has the fleas in this house,

And he was the one that did call me a stinking louse,

He said I needed a flea bath & a general delouse,

But I refused, I told him he needs one too; take it first,

When he jumped in the shower, I took all his clothes and got out…

I ran away from home, dragging dad’s clothes along,

While singing and generally enjoying any melody, yes song,

I ran away all the way to Tahiti, made a house with dad’s clothes,

Now I live in my little house, writing stories like this, books in many rows…

I read all I can read, I am ravenous, but I have had my rabies shot,

Tolstoy, Dichievski (not spelled right, at all) Freud,

Even some of dads oddities, sort of about me, but I was never that way,

Look at my eyes, do I look like a liar, a cheat, a stealer of my daddies clothes,

It is all a frame up, they are just trying to get the money from my invention,

A personal doggie trimmer that the doggie can use, with training,

I think its immediate treatment I may need; yes I think I need intervention…

                        © ed/Rufuz 6/14/04