My nose was all sniffly;
‘Twas spring in the air.
Faster than you say “piffly”
My Kleenex weren’t there.
I went to the store
To pick up some tissue
But they had no more
And THAT was an issue.
So I grabbed my gun
And went off a raidin’
Until my nose’s run
Could be finished abatin’.
I knocked on a door
And they opened it. Fools!
I shrieked “Get on the floor!”
And I searched through their tools…
Screwdrivers, flashlight,
And nails to pound
But try as I might
There were no Kleenex found.
The cops were approaching
I could hear their siren
And I was encroaching
And expect they’d be firin’
So I took the out…
The only one I had:
I scrunched up my snout
And sniffed like my dad.
That day as the bullets
Riddled my body
I learned snot down the gullet
Is what cops think is naughty.
This family-friendly poem was inspired by my beautiful girlfriend and her nose. Blame her, not me.
The Daily Travesty 