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The Flea Market (Fun Poem 68)
When I was just a little nipper,
I cycled along to see
a flea market on the green.
I parked my bike,
and then sat down in the tall grass.
No one had to me
that they gave away fleas there too.
Therefore, while I was sitting there
one jumped on my ass,
and when I got back to school
and went to park my bike.
The little beggar bit
and I went dancing around
doing the flea-a-me-jig.
I must have looked a sight for sure,
a sight for sore eyes
as I racked my rear end to bits,
jumping around like a bouncing ball.
I either got him,
or he fell of dizzy as hell,
but he never bit me again.
29 February 2008
poem
by
David Harris
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