DMC: "Papa Slime" by David McMullin

Ampersand72

PAPA SLIME

Ding dong

“Gerry,” Mom twitters, “that sounds like the chime.
Would you be so kind as to get Papa Slime?”
Just what is she saying? Who can this Slime be?
He sounds like some mutant from deep in the sea.
Or maybe a ghoul from some bottomless caves.
Regardless, I’m sure it’s my brain that he craves.

Diiing dooong

“Gerry.” says Mom, “Where’s your reason and rhyme?
Just answer the doorbell. We need Papa Slime.”
My parents have lost it or possibly worse,
I’m thinking they’re under this Papa Slime’s curse.
He’ll rip me to bits (what a terrible guest),
then stomp on the pieces and feast on the rest.

Diiiiiiiiiiiing doooooooooong

“Gerald Jay Jones! I won’t ask one more time.
Now open that door and receive Papa Slime!”
I sink to the carpet and slink ’cross the room,
then fling the door open expecting my doom.
It’s only my neighbor (he’s gentle and cute),
and there in his hands is a little green fruit.
He smiles. “Hey Gerry, you’re moving so slowly—
Your dad needs this lime for his fresh guacamole.”
Oops! Now I get it—there’s no Papa Slime.
My mom simply asked me to get Papa’s lime.

© 2019 David McMullin. All rights reserved.

TLD reader Kate O'Neil has challenged us to write a poem with words at play—malapropisms, ambiguities, unintended meanings, puns, clichés, etc. Read my interview with Kate HERE and add your wordplay poem to the padlet.

While some contributions will be featured as daily ditties this month, all contributions will be included in a wrap-up celebration on Friday, November 29th.