Publications

Sure as pigs are made of bacon

And gods love a good libation,

I risk blunt humiliation

In taking up my pen.

*

But, here on this, now spoilt, morning,

I issue a public warning

Though I face outrageous scorning

Until I know not when.

*

As I write, my lips are pitch-black

And my vision has just come back.

A burnt odor indicates the lack

Of ozone in the air.

*

My poor buns are seared together,

Manhood's missing altogether

And my scalp looks like burnt leather

With some sparse pubic hair.

*

My eyeballs are albinotic

And their brows have gone psychotic.

I'm completely cyanotic,

And my nose is but a stub,

*

I could swear while I lay sleeping,

Some strange lunatic came creeping,

And spent the entire night keeping

Time on my head with a club.

*

Like a capon for the table

I am wobbly and unstable,

Legs entirely unable

To support my sagging weight.

*

I am tailspun and bedraggled

As a horse that sped and straggled

While its rider spurred and haggled

With the devil o'er his fate.

*

Now, a sibilant voice pealing,

Through my sinciput goes reeling,

And I feel no other feeling

Than the pain within my pate.

*

So, you see, these deep plications

On my brow are indications

Of the warning declarations

That I must uncap for you.

*

When your plan of daily grooming

Begins to be time-consuming

And you're rushing while presuming

Everything is in the pink,

*

Should you drop your 'lectric trimmer,

And the bathroom light grow dimmer,

Things will get a whole lot grimmer

If you grab it from the sink.

***

A/N: Just realized that I wrote more than double the maximum word count on this, so it's not eligible. I was having so much fun I got carried away.

Thanks, Heather, for posting such a creative and fun challenge! Readers: Check it out and join in HERE: