Snot goo’s much—no dearth,
snot goo’s yucky, runs. . .
nothin’ left to do but plumb with thumb,
wet thumb.

Spouts like a gorged rill;
soon I’ll try a pill.
Grand flow if I sneeze;
drippiness will not cease—
runs on, nasal plumbing spree.
It runs.

Plumbing spree
running free,
sumped for me—
it runs!

Of manners, bad form;
undammed snot makes folks ill.
Sticky the goo that is gunked up there.
Head is a farm growing obnoxious ware,
and I won’t slow the picking of what’s inside.

Shed resident crop that is hiding far
near the dividing septum bar.
Gummy yet strong. . .it’s like fishing for Gar.
Soon I’ll eat a feast. . .no par!

Plumbing spree
running free,
sumped for me—
I’ll pluck.

Gross!

To mouth, craw: vittles that had time to “bake.”
Just sinister, awful: the moves that I make,
but hindered is smell from what’s upside the nose. . .
take some, hurl it on Joe’s clothes.

Yeah, comes off. . .

if you don’t wait until morning
to get it nice with duds cleaning.

Run, run, run,
turn, turn, turn
soon, soon soon!
to wash room
or the vestments:

doomed,
doomed!
doomed!!
doomed!!!

I have no handkerchief;
I’ll use my handy sleeve.