one wednesday afternoon in the midst of june, a beast wandered into our abode.
put him outside! shrieked the maître d'
meanwhile lady ella lamented as she flailed her broken statuette about
thumped down by the beast in his vernacular.
the uninvited guest had a sulky babyface and bug eyes like clementines
(his jaundiced orange complexion could also be compared to a clementine)
on peculiar sorts of days the beast would sleep, but never for long.
often awakening to engage in the wretched game of cat chase mouse.
tearing up the ballet shoes and upholstery laying round the house
he would return to his lair with large eyes, and a monstrous air
waiting for the feeble minded or brave who dared to lure him from his cave
and that's the problem with this house
there's just too many lost souls and too little manners.
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