Thursday, January 21, 2016


                    Poor Gyppy lately’s been an itchy bitch,
                    Which makes her slurp and nibble on her flank,
                    Trying to salve that agonizing itch,
                    Perhaps believing it a pesky prank
                    Some woeful enemy has pulled on her,
                    As if there could be such a nasty tease;
                    The real reason why this would occur
                    Is simply the maliciousness of fleas.
                    The medicine we give her to prevent
                    Such an incursion clearly hasn’t done
                    The salutary job for which it’s meant,
                    And our assault on fleas we haven’t won,
                         So, now around her neck she wears a cone
                         That amplifies her sighs—a megaphone.