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Ol' Gib Goober
by Gregory R SchelskeIt's not by chance that Ol' Gib Goober
who's name arranged spells big booger
got a clog in his nasal line -
and died to death at ninety nine.
He couldn't breathe
the doctor said,
and this is why
Ol' Gib is dead.
He ran eight miles
every day,
he walked the dogs
and baled the hay.
The doctor said
He never smoked
and never drank
and when Ol' Gib swam
he never sank.
he was trim and fit
fit and lean,
he was always nice
and never mean
The doctor said
By definition
of my doctor's code
you all should know
Ol' Gib was old,
but not so old that he should die
I've examined him and don't know why
he had to die, the doctor said
Unless of course
it was his snout
which was plugged
inside and out
full of things I can't define
things that aren't
in yours and mine.
Rocks and gems
And pans and such
a fishing pole
and dump truck clutch.
A license plate and rubber hose
are some things found
in Ol' Gib's nose.
And still there's more
two rusty saws,
that I have added
to the cause.
The doctor said
He couldn't breathe
and he couldn't smell
which is why Ol' Gib
fell down that well.
04/28/2009 Posted on 04/28/2009
Copyright © 2025 Gregory R Schelske
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 04/28/09 at 11:23 AM Heh. Interesting, to say the least. Engaging as hell, too. This strangely reminds me of some Shel Silverstein, which is definitely not a bad thing. |
| Posted by Kris Mara on 04/28/09 at 12:15 PM OH, I was TOTALLY thinking Shel Silverstein! (whom I adore). I think you've got something here, very enjoyable read!! |
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