The Shell of a Turtle

wheres the rabbit when you need him

The Shell of a Turtle

 

I woke up inside of what smelled and felt

like a tree,

took a pee,

stretched my legs,

scratched my a*s,

and had a little smoke.

 

I pondered on my precarious predicament,

while stuck in the bowels

of a man eating plant,

posed as a damsel in distress---

clad in nothing

but a skimpy and flimsy-

handmade papier-mâché dress.

 

I carved out a tiny peephole,

in my little prison den-

looking outward, over, up, sideways, and down-

and saw naked women running all around~

in a circle singing ---

Halleluiah, Halleluiah,

“we’ve imprisoned

the Evil Fiddling Diddling  Clown”

 

To my utter amazement

and astonishment,

it slowly dawned on me -

that these lovely nubile,

sex- starved hungry female

Nubians --- were singing their song of

captivity--- that possibly was

and most assuredly is ---

about none other than,

the notorious and glorious

sin loving  Fiddler--- little old Me!

 

My Oh My~

What a prickly pickle of a predicament

 I seem to be in…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

^RC

^7/27/15