I Stepped On A Worm Poem by Juan Olivarez

I stepped on a worm, on the dried up ground,
And what came out then, produced a big frown.
Green matter and jello of a foreign kind,
And all kinds of weird things came to my mind.

I didn't mean to do it, he was just so small,
So no one can answer his 911 call.
Not that he could dial the number, right?
Cause if you look at him, he is a sight.

Poor little worm he never knew,
That he would get squashed, he had no clue.
Now he's just lying there, turned into pulp,
Seeing him like that, sure makes me gulp.

10/22/10 Alton Texas