No, I don’t yet stink,

Not even if one of my brothers say so,

The FINK…

Its just a bit warm during, of late, the days here,

But I said I wouldn’t again complain of the heat,

My home air-conditioners do work but not my cars I fear…

So, a shower with soap will be all I need,

Or to bathe in the Barrens brackish waters,

When little, my brothers & sister paid me to bathe with quarters…

My bat-like wings, of the Jersey Devil, are hardest to clean,

It became for Ma & sis, to clean them, a regular routine,

So out on my own I went when turned, did I, eighteen…

I found the Barrens to be the place to live,

People there did of themselves regularly give,

People taste best when clean, then rung out through a sieve…

That’s all that can be said,

My time for talking at an end,

For there are human sounds up round the bend,

Yummy, yummy, they smell like that of a raw French hen…

© ed - 4/6/10