When you see that gore on the asphalt,
Remember these words that I give:
What bloody pulp there that is your fault
Depends on the place that you live.

Road kill - smells ill.
What was it once? You may well inquire.
Road kill - you drill.
I'll give you a tip - check your tire!

If like me you live in Kentucky,
A 'possum is what you will hit.
Marsupials seldom are lucky,
And sometimes you'll crunch a rab-bit.

Road kill - foul swill,
Once was a creature but now it's gruel.
Road kill - sends chill,
So you must be careful, you fool!

Across Texas and in the Southwest,
It's squashed armadillos you'll find.
The road kill that Lone Star folks know best
On pikes that are two-yellow-lined.

Road kill - mixed grill,
In Florida it is 'gators/snakes.
Road kill - sick thrill
A vulture's Thanksgiving it makes.

In Oregon, road kill means beavers,
Industrious as they may be.
While once they were overachievers,
Each one's now a furry Fris-bee.

Road kill - stands still.
Poor old slow turtles do not do well.
Road kill - on hill.
You can't dodge if you have a shell.

On backroads in woodlands it's chipmunks
And groundhogs that get in your way.
Watch out for those stinky old dead skunks.
My word! It's a road kill buffet!

Road kill - bad pill,
Seldom is birdies and here is why:
Road kill - no bill,
It's 'cause you can't drive in the sky!

In suburbs, I can't say it blunter:
It's pets that you're needing to fear.
And since no one young is a hunter
You'll wreck your car hitting a deer.

Road kill - chance nil.
One commonality I surmise:
Road kill - gut mill,
Wherever you'll find it there's flies!