And head for their home, a deserted hole.
At the door was a deserted bowl,
Filled to the brim with chocolate biscuits,
And by it was a pack of crisps.
They (the hog and the knife) both had lisps,
And together they had a tewwific laugh
As they climbed into the bath
Which was very hot,
And the baby started screaming
In its cot.

The knife went and kicked it in the teeth
As if it were a handkerchief.
This ordeal was very brief
And was over in a flash.
In a minute, the knife was back in bed,
And the baby was not dead:
It just had a rather big dent in its head.

Blood trickled onto the sheets,
But the baby was not crying.
Instead it was sighing
In relief,
Because it had found its handkerchief.

The ordeal was over
And nothing was done,
So they decided to run,
So as to have a bit of fun,
And then the baby died.
No one cried,
And why should they?
They didn’t care anyway.


© 2000 Matt Everett