Why is this poem here? you might ask. Well I’ll have you know that it is here because, because…okay that’s hard to answer. Basically it’s random and I wanted to publish it. I figure Dr. Seuss gets to do it. And Ogden Nash (and if we’re being honest, e. e. cummings, like, all the time). So, yeah. Just don’t blame Holli.
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Glurk Galoshes! Gunk the funk!
Beyonder, bounders bowing bumps.
So slithered Slinky Slim.
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“By all the splargs in Christendom,”
quoth Slim in Slinkenese,
“I call you dweeb, and freak and plum,
and others worse than these.”
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These flargs no sooner echoed round
than round and in the hall
were four grown stallions swathed in dearth
that had regarded all.
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“Before you plug that yellow ward,
you yellow livered troll,
be sure your own escape’s assured
or else your name’s Shemol.”
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But heeders heed and don’ters don’t
and Slim was neither three.
So bludging past the stallions four
he tried to run…break free.
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Rounder pounder helter har
the horses hounded, grim.
And sloomy Slim had nothing left
but tiny bits of him.
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Tears to trowling turrid torp
glum gloomy goomers gone.
Ween-weeny, teeny Slim.
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Very moshasyllabic. 🙂
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