S is for situation affixed,
T’s for thumb glued to finger indexed,
U is for unified to an unwilling mate,
C is for that crazy cyanoacrylate
K’s for kits with models and the glue that joins parts now.

Not made from hooves of cows;
white paste for some kids is chow.

Stuck happens if you should misuse glue;
stuck will make one finger out of two.
It will happen if you are not careful with adhesives.
“Stuck in the Middle with You.”

S is for singular where once two,
T’s for toes tied together with goo,
U is for ungulates boiled down post-wearing shoes,
C’s for cooked until the animal is no more,
K’s for kick—what happened before rendered was Old Stewball
and making riders’ rumps sore.

Stuck rhymes with word you should never use;
it gives cyan-hued noses the blues.
Two to one, can make ’em; once such seals made, hard to break ’em.
“Stuck” looks a bit like “shtup” too.

Stuck wax to hairs on your chest—
post-anterior, dorsal.
Your screams heard from coast to coast.
Get those follicles exhumed
and you will be better groomed.
You can huff it, but don’t chew!

Hallucinations you’ll view,
worse than those had from mushrooms.
Not from the glue made from hooves. . .
that for model-making crews.

Models, makers fly ’round rooms.