Moe

My name is Moe

I live in your nose

farther up

than your finger can go

 

I have my own bed

a brother named Ned

and a dresser and drawers

that is made out of lead

 

I get a great breeze

whenever you sneeze

and I swing in my hammock

as free as you please

 

Whenever you pick

your nose, it's quite sick

watch out you don't squash my dog

his name's Nick

 

As long as you keep

your nose, I'll sweep

and I'll live in here

way in the back with my Jeep

Reviews

[Baz]

Very good, yet again. A guy called Moe living in my nose - who knew?! As ever, the poem is technically perfect, and very humourous as well.