I just heard about the slimy sleech
that lives up inside my nose.
I’d better not choose to leave him there.
Who knows what would happen, who knows?
He might just decide to eat my brain
and burrow right through my head
to get to it SO, here’s what I’ll do:
I’ll pick him right out instead.
Now, what do I do with the sleech outside?
It’s stuck to my thumb like glue.
I’ll flick it right on the floor, I guess,
or else wipe it under my shoe.
I could put it in my mouth because
it tastes like a booger, they say.
I’ll chew it right up and swallow it down—
a perfect solution, hey?
But Mother and Dad might frown on this
and hand me a tissue then.
They’ll tell me to wipe that sleech in there,
and never do that again!
I think I will just call the dog to come.
That’s what I will do instead.
I’ll feed it to him, they’ll be so proud:
“RECYCLE, REUSE,” they’ve said.
