Thursday, February 18, 2016

The Marrog

The Marrog  My desk’s at the back of the class
And nobody knows but nobody knows
I’m a Marrog, from Mars
With a body of brass
And seventeen fingers and toes.
Wouldn’t they shriek if they knew
I’ve three eyes in the back of my head
And my hair is bright purple,
My nose is deep blue
And my teeth are half- yellow and half-red.

My five arms are silver and spiked
With knives on them shaped that spears.
I could go right back now if I liked
And return in a million light years.

I could gobble them all
For I am seven foot tall
And I’m breathing green flames from my ears.
Wouldn’t they yell if they knew,
If they guessed a Marrog was here?
Ha ha they haven’t a clue –
Or they would tremble in fear!
“Look, look, a Marrog”
They’d all scream – and smack
The blackboard would fall and the ceiling would crack
A teacher would faint, I suppose.
But I would grin to myself, sitting right at the back
And nobody, nobody knows .
R. C. Scriven