Is both hairy and bald
And it makes it’s home by your toes.
Wait until night,
Then give it a fright,
And the hairs will fly out of its nose.
Is part pot and part pig
And it lives at the top of your street.
If it wants to be fed,
It’ll cook its own head,
Which it boils in its belly to eat.
Is half boil and half bum
And it cautiously crawls up your leg.
If you give it a squeeze,
It falls from your knees,
And then splats on the floor like an egg.
Is half hat and half hornet
And it buzzes and swoops round your head.
If you chop up a wing,
And then blend up its sting,
You can make up a hornet-hat bread.
Will hang off your top lip
If you mention the name of your foe.
But a cautionary word –
If its my name that’s heard,
Up its big, bumpy nose you will go.
Has no father or mother
And was made from a burp and some fizz.
It used to be something,
And then became nothing,
So now nobody knows what it is.
© James Cappuccini 2014