Dedicated to my special friend Fam, whose husband happens to have a Phillips widescreen tv in his soundproofed den


There is a young girl in Madras
Who frequently crawls through the grass
She's looking for worms
And all that goes 'squirms'
Then eats them,
The silly old lass

They make her hair curly
Her teeth are quite pearly
But 'tis beyond medical doubt
That one day from coughing
She'll be in a coffin
And the worms
-They'll all wriggle out

I've written a letter
And hope she's soon better
She's deluded that can't be denied
That worms guts all messy
The more than the lessy
Are better than poppadams fried

If you see her dribbling
Then flipping and wriggling
Just don't be too shocked or surprised
She's making a movie
About a wriggling worm 'smoothie'
To be seen on a Phillip's screen wide

12/21/2001

Posted on 12/21/2001
Copyright © 2025 Anne Howe