'Perfection', said the scientist,
'if you fall short, you're off my list.
Genetics cannot be surpassed
selection, friends, will not be vast.'
'A single abnormality
will end your life in misery.
A mangy dog without a tail,
I must be strict, I will not fail.'
From one cold slab arose a ghost,
all nude, with genitals exposed.
He spoke: 'Oh, Doctor Frankenstein
I've managed it, now you are mine.'
He took the doc then by the scruff
and shook him heavily, and rough.
Until the doctor cried in vain
and both of them went quite insane.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I think the doctor was insane any way.....nice write! :)