SWINGING IN THE BREEZE IT WAS
ON A WARM SUMMER NIGHT
SWARMS OF BUGS, TURKEY BUZZARDS
LOOKED FOR A PLACE TO LIGHT
MAKING SURE TO LAND UPWIND
TO AVOID THE AWFUL STENCH
A BIRD SAT UPON EACH SHOULDER
A MAKESHIFT, GHASTLY BENCH
BOUND WITH A LENGTH OF ROPE
AND A DIRTY SOCK IN ITS MOUTH
A PREVAILING WIND SWUNG IT
AS A PENDULUM, NORTH TO SOUTH
RED STREAKS WERE EVERYWHERE
MUCH TO THE BUGS DELIGHT
SETTLING IN FOR THE EVENING
THEY PROCEEDED TO TAKE A BITE
MUFFLED SCREAMS RESOUNDED
AS IT SWAYED IN THAT GALE
WILDLY TWITCHING, CONTORTING
BUT TO ABSOLUTELY NO AVAIL
GIGGLES WERE HEARD APLENTY
REALIZING WHAT THEY’D DONE
IT WAS MISTER WILSON’S SCOUT TROOP
JUST OUT HAVING A LITTLE FUN
KETCHUP BOTTLES LITTERED
THE GROUND AROUND THE SCENE
A BAREFOOT BOY STOOD OUT
IN THAT GUILTY TROOP OF GREEN
A LOOK OF VENGEANCE IN HIS EYES
SWINGING HIGH IN THAT TREE
MISTER WILSON COULD ONLY WHIMPER
AS SKEETERS BIT HIS KNEES
IT WAS THEIR YEARLY CAMPOUT
AND THEY ALWAYS PULLED A PRANK
NOW PAYBACK WOULD BE TERRIBLE
FROM A MAN WHOSE UNIFORM STANK!
Friday, June 24, 2022