nuts!
nuts!
by the poetry pixies
© 2022
Click the player to hear the audio version (better) or read the words below (second best):
nuts!
scrambled, fried
baked or frozen
who knows the hell
that will be chosen
those nuts of rick’s
are ever tortured
like worm-infested
apple orchards
he grinds em, cracks em,
tests their mettle
swears they’re in
the worst of fettle
something’s always
awfully wrong
sometimes he even
wears a thong
(now there’s a sight –
believe you me –
enough to make
a blind man flee)
the cursed forecast
plays a role
sunny, rainy
then hot and cold
each condition
carries risk
whether warm
or somewhat brisk
them nuts is tender,
oh yes, my dear
especially at
this time of year
they melt like butter
in the heat
leave yellow puddles
in the street
when it’s cold
they shrink and hide
pack their bag
and move inside
too much water
makes them crinkly
like sharpay skin
that’s old and wrinkly
if it’s humid,
they get all sweaty
and need gofundme’s
at the ready
to buy some light
and airy shorts
for doing
risky moto sports
like popping wheelies
everywhere
and giving ladies
ballsy scares
the lam says ‘chop em,
lop em off!’
which causes matty b.
to scoff
‘without them
he can’t wheelie, really
ride the roads
or gambol freely’
it’s true, there’s no more
getting it up
when your nuts
are in a cup
male members
start running rife
as chef miyuki
pulls out her knife
the girls just yawn
and say bye bye
‘cause they’ve got
bigger fish to fry
they’re grilling
tasty prairie oysters
while neutered begin
joins a cloister
© 2022 Susan Macaulay. I invite you to share my poetry and posts widely, but please do not reprint, reblog or copy and paste them in their entirety without my permission. Thank you.
https://amazingsusan.com/2022/03/10/a-matter-of-rider-time/
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