The Toad
A lone throat-grimed song
In the vapid night, like filmy,
Ugly teeth, it sheens.
A song, an echoed refrain
From among the glades
It's gone! It's not! For there's
A toad! O Crappo, why?
I am all fidelity, your lieutenant,
A rubber headed poet.
Brrraapp! He sings. What horror!
Do you not see him gleaming
As he slurps away?
A Quiet Goodnight... from that toad.