To a Squirrel Dying. . . Flat?
The time you ran through town last fall
We chased you through the shopping mall;
As girl and boy stood screaming by,
Displays we brought down shoulder high.
Today, the road all shoppers come,
Shovel full we bring you home,
And take you to our hiding place,
Runner of a slower race.
Dumb squirrel, to run away so slow
From fields where Thunderbirds don’t go,
And though you thought you had it made
I bet ’bout now you wish you’d stayed.
Eyes you didn’t have time to shut
Cannot see your spilling guts,
And silence sounds much better than cheers
As well-aimed tires blow out your ears.
Now you cannot “swell the rout”
Of kids you in the mall wore out,
And though back then you did outrun
Look who now is having fun!
So we, before it’s time to eat,
Tie this old string round your feet,
And running, feeling oh so proud
Drag you through a shopping crowd.
And round your grossly flattened head
They flock to gaze at whatever’s dead,
And find it’s such a deformed squirrel
They cannot help but turn and hurl.
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