That Damn Pinky

That damn blasted silly pinky!
Always going up when I drink a cup of tea,
Always getting in the way when I have to pee…
Hmm, do you think I’m not doing it properly?

Does anyone know what we have them for?
To deftly catch slamming car doors?
To nimbly collect gooey nasal gore?
Does anyone pinky swear anymore?

Well I am done with mine!
Here, have it, it’s okay - I’m fine.
Go ahead and stick it in brine,
Or maybe feed it to your swine.

Ah, the freedom of eight useful digits
Without those damn pinky idjits
Getting in the way, like those two midgets
At the wedding reception of my dear Aunt Bridget.

Er, perhaps I didn’t think this all the way through…
You don’t know which way to the hospital, do you?

The End

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