“DISEMBODIED FEETSIES (revisited)

No longer are my feet targets for Rufuz playing,

Must be cause they are so cold,

Rufuz must like his meat cooked or at least lukewarm,

Like they are when they just come out of my shoes,

But, ewwwww, must they stink,

But he doesn’t seem to mind,

As he smells worse sometimes…

Pretty soon, as they feel, my feet will not be part of me,

Just freeze up and fall off, oh what am I to do?

If I put them in front of the heater,

They warm up for a time,

Better yet, move to a warmer clime.

Have always said that the cold is easier on me,

The heat my body finds to be,

Over-taxing, cannot take off enough clothes,

To make my body cooler,

But can wear enough to keep warmer or so I thought.

So far this winter though,

My feetsies, will I believe, become for Rufuz, feed,

When they become totally disembodied,

At least I won’t have the need to bleed,

As my extremities will be frozen,

And as far as that goes,

I find I cannot recede…

             (ed)