In the middle of a traffic lane --
State Highway Sixty Two
Occurred two situations.
I’ll relate them both to you.
The FIRST -- A mishap happened
Accompanied by a “clunk“.
The oil pan of a pickup truck
Encountered Mr. Skunk.
Both truck and skunk were altered.
The truck drove down the road.
The odor emanating
Surpassed emission’s code.
The skunk remained where he was struck.
His beating heart -- it ceased.
The oil pan tattooed on him
A tiny spot of grease.
Then after several days has passed
Since his life had ended,
“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust,” --
Just as God intended.
Decomposition had ensued,
Assisted by a worm,
Mortimer Maggot, Esquire
And little brother, Squirm.
The SECOND -- ‘Twas Squirm Maggot,
Skunk meat he wouldn’t eat.
No matter how he tried to chew,
This feat he couldn’t complete.
To explain this situation,
Involves terms so complex--
Suffice to say ‘twas basically
A faulty gag reflex.
A tiny tear slid from his eye
And puddled in a pool.
Squirm decried that eating skunk
Was punishment most cruel.
His nose was very sensitive.
His taste buds -- tres acute.
His stomach lurched with every bite.
Skunk meat was his dispute.
A heated battle soon arose,
And neither would white-flag it.
“I will not eat the stinkin’ skunk.
It’s enough to gag a maggot.”
Then Mortimer relented and
Gave in to Squirm’s demand.
They’d search for fare less pungent
And dine on something bland.
--No animals were harmed in the writing of this poem.--
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