Through good or bad
He’s always there to make your days seem worse.
In full attire we call him sire
And suffer through his curse.
He’s large and mean,
With teeth of green,
A broken nose,
And fractured spleen,
A dandruff stack,
A hairy back,
And drives as if he’s in Iraq.
But if he learns to read and write
We’ll have to stop at every light!
Thal Dixon
1987
