Nature
by Violet Tiara 

Lovely limping little lepers
like to lick my Dr Pepper.
Lice feel nice as honey-nuts
buzz right up a buzzard’s butt.

Screaming beetles
weave through weevils
so rude they chewed
all my Big League Chew.
“Motherfucker!” go call Smuckers
‘cause I just made some weevil jam.

My own mother’s been sending me Spam—
Ma’am, I can only fry so much spiced ham!
“Goddamn!” that ram likes Spam.
“Get him a bib!” Shut up, I am.

Nothing’s as funny as Quakers in nature
with big-ass hats and no coffee maker.
Prepare to meet your maker, Quaker,
those bears can smell that you’re a faker.

Butterflies ring septic skies
like jellied lies at Mai-Tai time.
Dragonflies who thought it wise
bob in my drink with drowning cries.

“Nature’s a reamed dream,”
screams a beam of impure light.
“You bet your bed on a cock fight,
so you’ve got no right to prophesize.”

Carneys copulate with a cornucopia…
This is a sorry excuse for Ethiopia!
Piss on this, I declare that nature is bunk!
And it smells like somebody puked on a skunk.
Camping with carneys and Quakers?
A fool’s proposition!

Now get me the hell out of here—
and don’t spare the ammunition!

Waiter!
A ball bearing wearing ranch dressing blessing Blanche’s wedding? Upsetting,” Ted grieved as he weaved his sleeve.

What Holds It All Together
I’m careful with my stapler-- I use it when I have to, but I try not to be wasteful, lest the staples disappear.

Wet the Ted
Loosely Ted did wet the bed, though none of the neighbors could hear. Not even when Teddy, his day wrecked already, wet the pillow with one salty tear.