The Uhu Curse Poem by Phil Ward

It doesn't matter just how gently,
You squeeze a tube of UHU glue,
There always ends up more than plenty,
And it gets all over you.

Besides the table and the chair,
It's on your fingers, in your hair,
It's on your clothes that wretched goo,
It's even worse than doggy poo.

You stuck the thing you bought it for,
You've gone and stuck the kitchen door,
To the packet and the box,
It's even got inside the lock.

There's nowhere now there isn't glue,
You've stuck the carpet to your shoe,
You're firmly fixed and goodness knows,
How it got inside your nose.

Then panic starts to settle in,
It's in your mouth and on your chin,
While summing up the mess construed,
You lose your balance squash the tube.

A jet of nasty sticky stuff,
If all of this was not enough,
Has rained it's droplets through the air,
And scattered nearly everywhere.

It's hard to picture at a glance,
If at all there's any chance,
That what has happened here today,
Is down to Karma, me to pay.

For doing something bad before,
To even up and settle a score,
There's nothing I can think that's worse,
To suffer from the UHU curse.

Philip L Ward ©