Thinglewart

So true, so true Thinglewart is blue

And who knew, who knew, what to do?

For Thinglewart is a preposterous pest

Indeed he wears a stiff, starched vest

No stretchy, stretch for Thinglewart ever

Just keeps on shoveling shit ‘til never

‘Til the sky turns puke and poops all over

‘Til rain’s cut short by a stinky gas mower

 

He once lived in the Kingdom of Koove

Where ladies and parasites wiggled and moved

There Queen Wishuwell offered him a job

Collecting mumbleweeds whole or by the gob

But he refused and said he would rather scratch dirt

For Lady Whatmethink wanted it for her skirt

So off to the high Dirtclod mountains he went

Until he gathered enough soil like a knocky-head gent

 

When the night started to dim and blinky blink

Thinglewart returned looking for Whatmethink

But she had ran off with a cute sewer rat

Who promised eons of unwashed chitchat

So Thinglewart sits silent, nose to the road

Where frogs dance and imitate horned toads

Cursing at cars, fucks, and trucks plus more

Thinglewart has become grim as the pink moors

 

Then a spy named Fry just happened to walk by

Overheard Thinglewart, sigh, sigh and sigh

Asked Thinglewart to join the secret Snoots

About love and dirt they didn’t give a hoot

So Thinglewart thought this a pretty good deal

Off he followed Fry to a hideout called Spiel

There he took the oath of the sacred Snootology

Then they celebrated, underneath the topology

Fry toasted sad Thinglewart with rare weasel juice

Thinglewart began to cry like a baby grass moose

 

The Snoots had a scheme all wrapped in evilness

Was named by Fry the Great Unexpectedness

To get rid of Queen Wishuwell was the big plan

And her icky boyfriend named Sir Gurr Fryingpan

They would attack when the moon went Buffoon

Yellow and swirly with wrinkles like a prune

Only by darkness would they inchy, slip, slip

To give Sir Gurr and Wishuwell hurty fat lips

 

But Thinglewart had a soft place in his noggin

The queen had been nice and a little bit awesome

He snuck through the muck, back to the Koove

Finding Gurr and Wishuwell dancing to a groove

He tried to tell them, but they were in no mood

Sir Gurr accused him of being a crude rude dude

Thinglewart was jailed in the tower called Fuzz

For Sir Gurr was a meany, that’s what he does.

 

So true, so true Thinglewart is blue

And who knew, who knew, what to do?

For Thinglewart is a preposterous pest

Indeed he wears a stiff, starched vest

No stretchy, stretch for Thinglewart ever

Just keeps on shoveling shit ‘til never

‘Til the sky turns puke and poops all over

‘Til rain’s cut short by a stinky gas mower

 

 

Chapter Two

 

Thinglewart’ s not alone in the tower

He’s inside with Sir Blastingcap Chowder

Chowder had worked to get out of tower

Diligent, built foam wings hour by hour

He built sets of cute fuzzy arms for two

Jumped out the window, floating up, it’s true.

Thinglewart attached the other set to his arms

Chowder floated, he couldn’t come to harm

But as soon as he jumped Thinglewart fell

Very slowly, like a flying giant gazelle

Chowder bumped into a sweeping loon

She swatted him with her feather broom

Foam slipped off Chowder’s skinny arms

He started to tumble, Thinglewart was alarmed

Chowder fell smack dab back into the tower

Bouncing off layers of foam, laughing, not even sour

 

To be continued?  Well, we’ll see

Thinglewart’s a bit private you see

He doesn’t like unnecessary chatter

He says it’s not good for the bladder

He only talks after a wee bit of juice

Then his tongue, it comes loose.

 

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