The Muddy, Mucky, Murky Mouch by Wes Magee

On a small asteroid

in the terrible void

dwells a filthy old slouch,

the vile m-m-m-Mouch.

He sleeps in spaghetti,

looks just like a yeti,

and his grotty green wig

would embarass a pig.

He enjoys a good splosh

in tomato juice squash,

while from swimming in sludge

he’s the colour of fudge.

He gobbles green grottles

swigs pond ooze from bottles

and the stench of his breath

scares all known germs to death.

He’s a jumbo-sized pest,

falls asleep fully dressed,

and far, far out in Space

he’s the last of his race.

The vile m-m-m-Mouch

doesn’t run, jump, or crouch,

but squats, gnarled as a gnome,

on his asteroid home.


by Wes Magee

Published by


Russian or Welsh poetry uploaded every Sunday. Reviews of literature, films, theatre, food and drink, etc. Any support or engagement is appreciated.

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