PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Under the cool of the silver dog moon

Comes the wombaloo

Hyp-hypnotizing

His back is so blue

His jaw is so proud

He’s just suck-suck 

Parasitizing

And, ghastly howl,

The wombaloo breaks

When gouging the heart

Of a frim-frim’s old mate

Oh blistery, junky

Frippalant growl

That makes a good heart want to shake

And under the cover of the silver dog moon

The ole wombaloo sneezes, 

atchoo! atchoo!
And the posse with their guns 

and their ropes and their nooses

And their snicker dogs 

and gally trains 

and hungry mamooses

Cry out in the night, ‘neath the silver dog moon

We’ll get you, ole slut! You ole wombaloo!

And the wombaloo, old fiend

My old, familiar friend

Knows each man who brings 

To him his houghy grey end

And just before the feeding begins

To fill voracious mamooses

And the snicker dogs and pippit hinds

And the ghastly empty hole nooses

Egads! Poor thing, awful wombaloo!

it cries out in fear, in pitiful dread

“Ah” it cries “I’m better off dead!”