221 – Mystery Bus

Poem number 221
Mystery Bus
I was sitting on the bus
With impressive lack of fuss
When I looked down from the window and I saw
A lady with two noses
And an eyeball made of roses
Nailing little baby squirrels to a door.
I thought “But what’s she doing?”
And then “Why’s that squirrel pooing?”
As the faeces dribbled brownly to the ground,
But then the bus moved on
And the whole shebang was gone
With the cause of the shenanigans not found.


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