The Blort

by Ryan Houlette

Six feet tall and twice as wide,
He’s a fella that you all should avoid
With a nasty disposition from his father’s side
And a psyche that crawled straight out of Freud

He’s the BLORT
The BLORT, I said
And if you ain’t careful
sooner or later he’ll wind up in your bed!

He’s got one stick arm and a big ol’ claw
And crazy little wobbly eyes.
A complexion like a bucket of slaw
His hunger’s always on the rise.

He’s the BLORT
The BLORT, I said.
And if you ain’t real respectful
He’ll suck the epinephrine right out of your head!

When little old ladies are a’travelling by
He finds his favorite grub (shub, shub)
And late at night when he’s looking for chicks
He hangs out at the smoky ol’ jazz club.

It was the BLORT
The BLORT, I said.
And they know if they mess with the BLORT

Then one day soon they might just wake up dead!