The Mama Chung Massacre Poem by Howard Camner
The Mama Chung Massacre
Mama Chung wags her tongue
with strings strung when spring's sprung
That Mama Chung with hands wrung
schools the young past bells rung
and sad songs sung
Now Mama Chung her flings were flung
when swingers swung among the stung
and Carl Jung
he psychoanalyzes Mama Chung
and finds she's hung with claws that clung
but never brung such pompous dung
as the high and mighty
Mama Chung
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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12/2/2024 1:02:49 AM # 1.0.0
