OMG, Dog Pee!

Don’t screw around with darkling yellow finches:
Their feathers harbor deadly poison quills,
There’s bird flu in their tiny talons’ pinches,
And bad saliva dribbles from their bills.

If you escape the Scylla of their antlers,
As well as the Charybdis of their hooves,
You yet must dodge the anti-guy Dismantlers,
That whup the ass of every dude that moves:

We’re talking fifty-five-foot-tall vaginas,
With wicked fangs and terrible disdain
For evil men in both the Carolinas
Who diss their furry magnitude in vain.

Can any bums pump gum at “Champ” le Beau?
De dee, de dee, de dee, de dee, de doe.

———

[Sonnet 153 (“Cupid laid by his brand and fell asleep”)]

Read more at Wag’s Revue and Salt Hill Journal.