THE AUNTEATER
by Ogden Nash* and John Ansell
A tiny termite found some wood;
He tasted it and found it good,
And that is why your Auntie Mae
Fell through the parlour floor today.
She hit the basement with her head
And now your Auntie Mae is dead;
Her funeral caused a big to-do:
The termite found her casket too.
Pallbearers fought the urge to yell
When Auntie fell through that as well,
And when her carcass hit the floor
They gently dragged her to the door,
One on each leg, one on each arm,
Most anxious not to cause alarm
(A little easier said than done:
Your Auntie Mae weighed half a ton).
With mourners feeling much the worse
For wear, they heaved her in the hearse
And drove her off for burial,
Where, though they still felt very ill,
They finally got her in the ground,
Before the tiny termite found…
He also liked the taste of bone.
An ant can’t leave an aunt alone.
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