General Poetry posted July 15, 2017

This work has reached the exceptional level
a poem

Uncle Octo Pussonelli

by Bill Schott

Uncle Octo Pussonelli
used to hang out at the deli
lack of hygiene left him smelly
he had a bad aroma

No suggestions made a dent
then there came the incident
one which no one could prevent
"Dare vas zo mooch droma!"

Lethal Keith came to the store
the stench of Octo made him sore
he pounded him into the floor
and put him in a coma

Now the deli smells like cheese
cold cuts, spices, in the breeze
while Uncle Octo scratches fleas
somewhere in Oklahoma



Also known as ..... Octopus World 8......
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© Copyright 2018. Bill Schott All rights reserved.
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