:: A short poem about a mosquito, being harried thereby, and the hollow regret of interspecies conquest ::

Monday, September 27, 2004

Deciding to feast on my dozing head
Meant waking me up, and winding up dead
My standard reaction when bit on the noggin'
Is to retaliate with a vigorous flogging
Upset, disoriented, near-sighted, and sore
Crouched in my underwear at a quarter to four
If you hadn't buzzed about my ear
I'd still be asleep and you'd still be here

Posted by morland @ 12:07 PM

:: Comments ::

it's just not as good without the free wine.

Posted by: dr. glasses on September 27, 2004 04:50 PM

Yes, this was true to Dennis form.

Posted by: morland on September 27, 2004 05:05 PM

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