Geriatric Version of Twinkle TwinkleWrinkled, wrinkled little manCoffin-dodging when he canSitting home and getting highAscending Heaven in the skyWrinkled, wrinkled little manIn a bag and in a van
Nursery RhymeI'm a dominatrixTall and broadHere's my handcuffsHere's my whipWhen I get all steamed upHear me shout"Bend over and call me Mom!"
ZitProtruding, unsightly, bulbousWhite, tense, stingingEmerging, swelling, eruptionPaste, water, satisfactionA crater amongst a land of plugged potholesZit.
Man in The Loft (descriptive exercise)I found him in the loft one night, taken aback by a ghastly sight.He sat there in a tattered, dusty suit. His face a deathly pale, his eyes two petrified marbles suspended at the entrance of endless wells.Even in the dim light his skin seemed to have a papery translucence to it - long boney hands draped over his stick thin knees, in stark white contrast to his dull black suit.The mouth suddenly moved - "I won't bite". The mumble came from his thin lips suddenly, strained and hoarse from decades of disuse; his voice withered and full of dust.I was still frozen, my feet sinking into my step on the steel ladder. My mind was still trying to process and accept this entity before me whom I'd never though possible.He coughed what sounded like a brief cackle, then slowly turned his head and in turn breaking our gaze. My transfixion seemed to lift."I needed somewhere to stay", he broke. "Anywhere to contemplate this state I'm in." The voice sounded clearer this time, as if the cobwebs had
The House Pest SongThey're climbing up your pipelinesThey're eating your breadcrumbs upTryna eat 'em so y'all need toHide your cakes, Hide your sweetsHide your cakes, Hide your sweetsHide your cakes, Hide your sweetsand hide your biscuitsCuz they're eating everythin' in thereYou can lay down traps and use raidBut there's too manyAnd get around itAnd get around itSo you can dial and call thatDial and call thatDial and call thatPest, pest, pest controllerYou got his numberThey done left droppings and allThe rats are really hugeThey're really hugefor realThe mice got away leaving behind evidenceI was bitten by some ants in the pantryIt stings, It stings, It stings, ItThey're crawlin' up your pipelinesThey're eating your breadcrumbs upTryna eat 'em so y'all need toHide your cakes, Hide your sweetsHide your cakes, Hide your sweetsHide your cakes, Hide your sweetsand hide your biscuitsCuz they're eating everythin' in there