Granny smirking in her chair,
a suspicious Granny sitting.
Oh my dentures!
Have you seen
just what Granny’s knitting!?
When you sneeze, oh the rapture!
To be showered post ah-choo.
A night heeding your nasal snores?
Spilleth over my love stew.
With each of your lurching hiccups
Oh how I do love you more.
To count your moles till the end of time?
Bliss, mon amour.
Your backsplash post garggle.
Your molars mid yawn.
With every scratch you satisfy
My world turns right from wrong.
On day 7 God has his feet up
but his species maker 9000 continued to work.
That is until the lever got jammed
and the 9000 went berserk.
The Octopus was supposed to have just two tentacles
instead it floats around with eight.
A far too long neck for the giraffe
did it generate.
Readers: let’s take a moment of poetic silence
for those who were 9000-ed from above
(especially for the blobfish who’s face
only a mother could love).