Croaked
Pandiculated by the pull of 3100 GPH,
Permission to eject denied,
Unsung, undone to landscape folly,
This boasty, bullified, baritone died.
Jammed into the pond’s black heart—
sporting Marty Feldman eyes—
he splays two four-digit high-fives
to signal his dastardly demise.
His slickened spine secretes some heat
as rubber fingers wrap his belly;
bloated from his futile struggle,
it jiggles just like apple jelly.
I pull and pull ‘til he pops out,
as do his vitals—down they go—
along with meaty, mighty legs
to disappear in liquid snow.
His vacant corpse rests in my hand
as I share his mad despair,
for I, the keeper of the pond
could not have saved him dying there.
I feel so sad to lose this friend
for he could orate like no other.
I buried the proud torso near the pond
And dearly hope he spawned another.
Pandiculated by the pull of 3100 GPH,
Permission to eject denied,
Unsung, undone to landscape folly,
This boasty, bullified, baritone died.
Jammed into the pond’s black heart—
sporting Marty Feldman eyes—
he splays two four-digit high-fives
to signal his dastardly demise.
His slickened spine secretes some heat
as rubber fingers wrap his belly;
bloated from his futile struggle,
it jiggles just like apple jelly.
I pull and pull ‘til he pops out,
as do his vitals—down they go—
along with meaty, mighty legs
to disappear in liquid snow.
His vacant corpse rests in my hand
as I share his mad despair,
for I, the keeper of the pond
could not have saved him dying there.
I feel so sad to lose this friend
for he could orate like no other.
I buried the proud torso near the pond
And dearly hope he spawned another.
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