Ogden Nash (August 19, 1902 – May 19, 1971 / New York / United States)
I objurgate the centipede,
A bug we do not really need.
At sleepy-time he beats a path
Straight to the bedroom or the bath.
You always wallop where he's not,
Or, if he is, he makes a spot.
Read poems about / on: time
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