9:48 a.m. - 2004-09-12
-Poop In A Tree....The Poem
The poem below was inspired by the true life story "Poop in a Tree" which you can see here. As the poop was flying up into the tree, this Suessian rhyme was forming in my warped mind.

POOP IN A TREE

In the town of Lanark

There�s a beautiful park

With a bag full of poop in a tree.

It�s at 5th and Main

And I�ll try to explain

Exactly how that came to be

I was out for a hike

With my little dog, Mike

I forgot to take with me the scoop

When Mike started stooping, then began pooping

And left a big pile of poop.

All I had was a bag

And my Dad would be mad

If I left it for someone to step on

So I gave it a whack

Right into the sack

With a stick that I found

By the pond.

The poop was now bagged

Though the smell made me gag

And I knew it belonged in the trash

But it was so far away and I wanted to play

So I decided to do something rash.

With the bag as a sling

I started to swing

The bag full of poop round and round

With my aim toward the can

I let go my hand

And suddenly found it air bound.

Up, up flew the turd

And it looked so absurd

When it landed way up in the tree

30 feet off the ground and I looked all around

I was hoping that no one would see.

There we stood, Mike and I

Looking up to the sky

And I thought about letting it be.

Just then my friend, Paul

Came along with a ball

And I asked him if he would help me.

We threw the ball at it

And hoped it would whack it

And knock the poop out of its spot.

But the ball got stuck too, right next to the poo

And now we were really upsot.

Other people came by

And decided to try

To knock the stuff from the trees grip

But each thing we threw

Landed next to the poo

First a bat, then a hat, then a mitt.

The crowd started growing

The wind started blowing

As more stuff got caught in the tree

a shoe and a chair and some kids teddy bear

And a rake and a broom and some keys.

The wind started gusting

The whole crowd was fussing

The people were having a fit

The branches did shake

And down came the rake

Then the hat then the bat then the mitt.

Yes down came the ball

And it started to fall

With it came down the old chair.

Then the broom and the shoe,

And the keys fell out too

Then last of all down came the bear.

The crowd walked away

It had been quite a day

And Mike and I left the park too

In all the commotion

We left with a notion

That something was left yet to do

But my brother Pete

Yelled �It�s time to eat�

And Mother was calling for me.

Yet, in the town of Lanark, in a beautiful Park

There�s a bag full of poop in a tree.

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