His & Hers Moms... The Ignorant Hillbilly The World's Wackiest Poetry Page 4 If you can read this thing, you're tongue-pied... tongue-eyed...eye tongued... Oh hossenfluffer... you're a jeenyus!

 Gurbledinkus Hatchensnatchit 
 © 1972 Robert E. Dalton  


Seven little jabbernockels crabbled into town, 
Their bureau drawers and fritchelsnicketts scrunchin' up th'  ground. 
But Gurbledinkus Hatchensnatchit drew his trusty smunk 
And perpetrated pulverizin' jabbernockel's gunk. 
 
The putrid puddle saturated Gurbledinkus' boots 
And he knew his pickledinkett and the snerd were in cahoots. 
Undauntellated calmly by the pulchitruding punk, 
Gurbledinkus Hatchensnatchit fired his trusty smunk! 
 
The sun extermalinkerated through the cloaking smouds, 
And whosisname and whatchacallit huddled in their shrouds. 
As Gurbledinkus palpitated simulatin' smut, 
His abernatherlinkeratus hit 'im in th' gut!

The trees kerbunkle softly over Gurbledinkus' grave, 
And the waters of the river extinkerate and swave. 
They never will unget the day the jabbernockels came, 
And the hinkledinks of history will extroculate his name. 
 
Sniff...





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