by Jeremy Wayne Couch
This poem is dedicated to Cheryl Towns.
I have a legitimate excuse
for being late to class today.
I was on my way--
I had my book, a highlighter,
paper, and a pen--
when, from out of nowhere
appeared Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons
(Now that's a mouth full!),
or as I prefer to call her,
Wonder Bra Woman.
Of course, I was frozen by fear.
She's a murderess, or didn't you hear?
She killed a baby finch--
stepped right on its head--
crushed the poor dear
until it was dead.
So you see, I was helpless.
She held me captive and forced
chocolate cake down my throat.
If you don't believe me,
here's a note the doctor wrote:
"It's all true--
every word he said.
Now send him home
so he can go to bed.
He can't take his test.
He really must rest.
After all, would you want it on your head
if this fine, young lad were to end up dead?
You've no idea the horrors he's seen
while being forced to eat cake and ice cream!
The poor lad will go into remission I fear
every time he's forced to look at a brassiere!