When the murderer spud off!

When the murderer spud off!

A Poem by andrew mitchell

Of things that go
bump in the night,
things go thud as well.

It was awful,
the massacre
we were rounded up,
washed, sorted, peeled,
and sliced.
I saw some diced.

What did you do then Mr Spud?
Well I rolled up to get help!
Who dunnit, any clues?
It was McCain’s
I know that frozen packaging anywhere!

Then what happened?
They were showered in chicken salt
and baked.
It was terrible.
No survivors then!
No! All were eaten!

Poor Mr Wedge and Shoestring!
That will be all Mr Spud.




© 2024 andrew mitchell


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A great little mash up here. I think you might have forgotten the ED on the end of happen, but maybe that's how potatoes speak, I don't know spudian. :)

Posted 7 Years Ago



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Added on August 9, 2018
Last Updated on May 9, 2024

Author

andrew mitchell
andrew mitchell

adelaide, Australia



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Strindberg said. " When I come home and sit at my writing table, then I live.... I live, and I live in manifold fashion of all human beings. I depict; I am glad with the glad, wicked with the wicked,.. more..