Squorrel

one morning i’ve sworn

on the high lawn

possibly before dawn

Rover had just gone whoopsies

right near mums cyclamens

and then

the unspeakable occurred

i know to you

that this may seem absurd

but dear holy mother of god

there was a thumbprint

on the turd

the house was a turmoil

turned upside down

all thumbs presented

inspected for traces of turd

they called the police

they called the FBI

they even called that tv guy

they exhumed the rotting corpse

of Peter Falk

to solve this puzzle

solve this crime

to find out who prodded the bog

and at exactly what time

to find that stinky little finger

and to cuff that stinky little hand

to a pole or a fence or door handle

helicopters full of guns

flew in the skies over head

a swat team gassed the bird cages

then they breached the shed

searching high and low

for this elusive culprit

nothing was left untouched or turned

they searched in vain

for the villain had left

even before they turned up

and now was up in a tree somewhere

a rather intelligent squirrel named Lionel

had been to the morgue that day

the sky was clear the sun was out

and he just wanted to play

so he broke into the morgue

stole a thumb from a corpse just lying there

took it into the day outside

into the nice warm air

he just wandered around

sticking the thumb into

all the things that he found

and he found it all highly amusing

a puddle a cake a fresh piece of flake

food from the mall

was smeared in the wall

thumbpainted madness

on the windows in the hall

then out

the emergency

exit

into the night

and off over to Rovers

like you just heard

for one final dead thumb press

into a turd