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Ode to a Small Lump of Green Putty I Found in my Armpit One Midsummer Morning

By: Grunthos the Flatulent

WARNING! THIS POEM IS PERFECTLY SAFE TO READ. YOU ARE UNDER NO DANGER WHATSOEVER.1)2)3)4)

Putty. Putty. Putty.
Green Putty - Grutty Peen.
Grarmpitutty - Morning!
Pridsummer - Grorning Utty!
Discovery..... Oh.
Putty?..... Armpit?
Armpit..... Putty.
Not even a particularly
Nice shade of green.

The sun creeps over the lands edge
Though the crack in the window it did wedge
Slowly brightening stinging my eye
as sleepily on my bed I lie

August sixth is the new day
Its in the summer half way
Stirring from my slumber I must arise
Must cloth myself and put on my guise

The sound of birds chirping through the air
Roosting and singing without a care
The sound of the lawn mower way far away
As the work men greet the brand new day

The smell of fresh cut grass intrudes
Sending me into wonderful moods
The smell of the fresh breeze moves the curtain
Its going to be a wonderful day , I'm Certain

On my bed i still here lie
I have to get up, yes I must try
Its so comfortable so soft and still
getting up is like climbing an insurmountable hill

I move my foot a little off the bed
Moving my arm slowly to the cots edge
Dropping my foot off and onto the floor
I rest before I do any more

Squiggling my butt to the edge nearer
Seeing my frame across in the mirror
To the floor I drop my other foot
The other hand on the edge I put

Raising my body to be upright
I raise my weight with all my might
in the mirror is my stout frame
Too much good food is the blame

Scraping my foot on the floor boards
Through the sea of cloths it fords
Finding at last one clean sock
My toes around its soft edge lock

Dragging it to me, I reach to the ground
Clasping on to the sock I found
Slipping it on to one of my smooth feet
I slide a little on my seat

I search again for another to put on
I find another that I soon don
Searching I find a pair of pants, mostly clean
With a newly repaired crotch seam

I find my undershirt in the cloths pile
I'm happy find my shirt and smile
Just then in my arm pit I itch
Its making my arm and body twitch

I reach for my arm pit deciding to scratch
When on to something smooth I latch
It felt soft and a little muddy
It turned out to be a green piece of putty

It was soft an somewhat sticky
It felt strange, kind of icky
When pushed on it slowly depressed
When I let go the dent sluggishly regressed

All together it was an unusual texture
I wondered what made up this green mixture
It looked so smooth and kind of glassy
yet in a way it was cloudy and waxy

Aside from the look it had a strange smell
What it smelt like was hard to tell
Kind of like sweat, kind of like perfume
it made an oder that filled the room

When pushed on it made a strange sound
As my finger rolled it around
It sounded kind of squeaky, kind of a smack
and kind of a pop when pulled and snapped back

Where did it come from this green dough
I couldn't imagine, I just didn't know
The waxiness and perfume, deodorant it could be
But that wasn't all , could some of it be me

Deodorant, dead skin, hair and some sweat
It all fused together in my arm pit I bet
Baking all night in the heat of my arm
Keeping it safe for any kind of harm

So in the morning I find the treasure
And how much joy I couldn't measure
I must set this aside and cherish it well
Despite its green color and it's terrible smell

Propping it on to an old golf tee
And into a jar so all could see
I raise it to an exalted place
So it could behold everyones face

Time now to put on my shoes
Where is the left one I always lose
There it is and in go my feet
The soft insole, what a treat

I put on my tee-shirt, then my shirt\ It looked mostly clean except for some dirt
It was time for some breakfast, what shall I eat
Maybe eggs, toast, and some fried meat

I made up the bacon and the eggs I fried
Some toast, butter and jelly I tried
Cinnamon rolls I had, then some coffee cake
A whole bagel I toasted and ate

Juice and coffee I drank with pride
Till it made me full and feel good inside
Back to my putty, I liked not its place
I needed to find it a new kind of space

What a beautiful creation my arm pit made
I moved the jar and on to the table it laid
It made my soul leap that this I created
I needed a better display to have it mated

Something elaborate not just a jar
I would have to look for it near and far
Something with silver an a little gold
Something to display it so bold

At the door came a loud knock
Who could it be, I looked at the clock
Time for my maid service to arrive
She comes to clean up my cluttered dive

I shuffle to the door to let her in
I show her my putty and for it affection win
What praise would she have for my creation of green
She will be amazed as soon as its seen

I turn the door knob and open the door
It was her to clean a little bit more
I thought I'd wait till she cleaned up some
If I showed her now, distracted she'd become

She shoveled my cloths into the washer near
and washed all my dishes, she's such a dear
Sweeping and mopping around the whole place
Dusting every nook, cranny and every small space

She was nearly done when I told her the news
Of the thing I created while I did snooze
I could see a skeptical look crawl across her face
I lead her over to the sacred place

There sat my green putty, still amazing to me
On the table where all could see
She looked and squinted at its form
And asked me how it came to be born

I told her clearly how it came about
She promptly told me she'd throw it out
Her attitude gave me quite a shock
I thought about it and then I took stock

Jealous she was that she had not this putty
Jealous she was that she had not this buddy
She shook he head with a curse she left
I went over and slammed the door with all my heft

I stared at it till the middle of the day
As I walked by it I always looked its way
Remembering the joy it's birth did bring
I made me want to dance and sing

It was time for my midday meal
I started with the potatoes that I had to peel
Put them in a pot and bring to a boil
Then mash them and butter them with much toil

I wondered how the green putty tasted
But didn't try it, didn't want it to be wasted
Instead I opened up a tub of sour cream
Put it on the potatoes, what a dream

Deep fried cheese sticks for a side dish
Stuffed mushrooms filled with my wish
A slab of sausage adorned my plate
And my fine meal I sat and ate

For desert there was ice cream and some cake
and a box of brownie mix to stir and bake
While my brownies cooked in my stove
Into a piece of cheese cake my fork dove

Eating the last of the brownie pan
I opened up a cold beer can
Drank it up to my hearts content
I considered my putty with deep intent

I hear the barking of the neighbor's dog
Along comes the man who delivers through rain and fog
It's the Mailman bringing news from afar
In his white and blue car

Yes I'll show him my putty dear
He'll be excited and eager to hear
How my putty came into my arm pit today
And how it grew there while asleep I lay

I hear him approaching the black mail box
I waddled to the door and undid the locks
As he put the mail into its holder
I spoke aloud I tried to be bolder

I said come and see my putty so green
He was a skinny man limber and lean
He poked his head through the jam of the door
I said you'll want to look at this, you won't be sore

I showed him the green putty, I made in the night
I tried to control my pride, with all my might
He looked and said that he really didn't see
Why I should so happy about this putty be

He thought it a nuisance and said “send it away”
But he couldn't bend my resolve, he couldn't it sway
He didn't appreciate the creation of green
He is very shallow, so it would seem

So I sent him away telling him to forget
That on this day the green putty he met
Away from my door he quickly ran
He was a poor excuse for a postman

I must look for people who appreciate the unique
I'll look for intelligent people with which to speak
Not every one can appreciate my putty of green
Most people are prejudice it would clearly seem

Full of food I went out for a walk
meeting people so about my putty I could talk
Down to the shops looking for a display of gold
I found one suitable that the craft store sold

My green putty would look fine in this gold case
It was encircled with a fine looking silver lace
A window of fine glass like fine crystal
and mount it on a sparkling pedestal

I wonder if the world should see my putty dear
Or the tale of its creation should they hear
Would they appreciate putty's story
And hear about it in all its glory

Society is so quick now a days
And people walk around, as in a daze
Long gone is the willingness to hear
About great stories and things so dear

People are skeptical and soon to doubt
And if the story is long the begin to pout
“Hurry up” they say “get to the point”
And if your too long they get out of joint

People lack the patience needed
Unwilling with culture to have their mind seeded
They are unwilling to have goodness grow
Would they respect my miraculous dough?

So far the few I have shown my putty to
And shown my inner feelings true
They have been a jealous and uncultured lot
And haven't appreciated the wonder I have got

Will the rest of the world this way be
Or can they my putty's virtue see
Or will most scoff and mock its wonder
And call it a mistake, a serious blunder

Should the world accept my dough
Would their greed for it be my foe
Would they try to take it far from me
Would I my putty no longer see?

Or would the world reject my putty dear
And think it's creation rather queer
I think they lack the culture they need
And reject my putty and call it demon seed

I'll protect my putty from the world, evil
Protect it from any upheaval
I'll keep my dough to myself
And keep it safe on my shelf

I would like to show putty to my son
I think he would think it rather fun
But his mother, estranged to me
Won't let me my favored son see

He's like me in so many ways
And wishes to be with me, so he says
He would understand my putty dear
And gladly its life story hear

My son could appreciate the unique creation
He would approve toast with a libation
But his mother keeps him from me, unseen
At least until he is seventeen

So I'll be sure to write this story down
And when he's old enough he'll hear the sound,
Of a story about putty so dear
He won't upon hearing frown and jeer

Upon hearing the story he will wish he could
have this happen to him, I know he would.
He's the only one who can appreciate putty
He's the only one who could also be his buddy

My wife, on the other hand
My poetry, she couldn't stand
She lived with me for a few short years
And seemed to have a lot of tears

She said if she had known what our life was to be
She would have never paid the marriage license fee
But would have called off the wedding
And never would have touched my bedding

She never appreciated my poetic rhyme
And said so over and over many a time
She came from a family of and uncultured lot
And for poetry, appreciation they had not

So I'd never show her my putty true
For I know it's story, she would boo
I'll protect my putty from her wrath
Even if she thinks me daft

I began to wonder what our future together would hold
When all was accomplished and finally told
How my putty and I together would be
And our partnership together for all to see

Could we go traveling across the land
And on some high peak together stand
Visit some deep canyon or some black abyss
See the sights that we both wouldn't miss

My putty and I could cross the years
and toast the good life with many beers
We could seek to increase our poetic muse
and argue and debate and see others views

To the pub we could go so all could see
What my putty and I could turn out to be
Friends for life a companion though all
Even though some say its rather small

Small that he is, faithful would he be
I began to wonder if it were a he or a she
I've been calling it “it” for all this time
What gender would it have this, product of grime

At last I decided it was a unique creation
And not to give it a gender was a liberation
So “It” remains the gender I give
And believe to live and let live

Would this putty of green so dear
Live to see my final year
Would it go though all my life together
Or would one of us go first and our relationship sever

I would like this green to be my life long putty
But the future I see looks rather muddy
How long could a piece of putty hope to live
But every chance, every advantage I shall it give

I hurried back to my humble home
Eager to place my putty in the gold dome
My putty sagged on the golf tee stick
I rolled it and shaped it, it still looked sick

I should mount it in the display case
The one surrounded with the silver lace
But once inside it seemed to droop
like it was dissolving and turning to soup

I pressed it together but to no avail
A piece broke loose it looked like a tail
I worried if my putty would be alright
I won't lose it with out a great fight

I cooled it, froze it, but it looked worse for wear
I shaped it and rounded it as much as I dare
My putty was now drying and cracking apart
What to do? I had to be smart

Now the sun was setting, and what to do
I tried to think of ideas but only had two
First was to put it into a glass of water
It would be to much, my ball I'd slaughter

I thought it over while i fixed the evening meal
Saving my putty was to me a big deal
I fried up some chicken wings with Buffalo sauce
And ate the while I tried to prevent my loss

A slice or two of pizza left from another lunch
I sat and thought on it while I did munch
When I was through with the meal of the eve
I feared I'd loose my putty and I would grieve

As twilight came and the sun was set
An idea came and with my mind it met
to take the remains and put it in my other arm pit
and over night just let it simmer and sit

Now in the evening, time for my bath
I like to soak , make gurgling rhymes and laugh
But tonight I think I shall not scrub
For will conditions be right, if I enter the tub

For if I clean under my arm pit
will the putty bake and contently sit
if it be clean will it rejuvenate putty dear
or will it need sweat, dead skin and hair

Then again if I keep my pit out of the wet
Then conditions would be right to dampen with sweat
But what if I slip and accidentally clean
It might make my putty no longer seen

Should I chance to bath tonight again
Or should I put off cleanliness till who knows when
I shall put it off again once more
For I haven't bathed in days, it will be twenty four

So I guess I go to bed real soon
And rest myself in the rising of the moon
And hope my decision not to clean myself
Will not adversely affect my health

Time again for my nightly stop
To the restroom up the stairs, at the top
In the room sits a porcelain seat
I must go up and soon it meet

I'll have to soon take a crap
It takes so long I'll take a nap
Then I'll squeeze with all my soul
Look there, it's a telephone pole

Now off to bed I soon must go
And into my arm pit place the dough
I hope it will be alright in there
With deodorant, sweat, skin and hair

So I scraped the goo from the display
And into my other arm pit I let it lay
Off with my shirt and my tee shirt
Pressing my arm down till it hurt

Off with my socks and my pants taken off
I climbed into my sleeping loft
With the remains of my putty green
I hope it will revive, thats my dream

Off I sleep with a midnight snack
I hope excessive sweat I don't lack
I want my putty to come back again
Its cracks and dryness to heal and mend

I laid my head but had unsettled dreams
I guess it was a nightmare, so it seams
It was about my putty dear
And that I had had it about a year

In its dome it began to reproduce
and soon it got completely loose
It began to multiply very fast
I left my house in terror, at last

Putty was getting to big I fear
It was making growling noises I could hear
I was scared it would feed on me
And that I would no longer be

There was so much all over my house
There was no more room, not even for a mouse
It got into the sewer and down the tile
It plugged every drain all the while

Not a drain worked all over the town
Got into the water pipes all around
All the water stopped , everything went dry
I went about thirsty, heaving a big sigh

The town elders traces this blight back to me
And called a session of court, Me they wanted to see
Blaming me and my putty so dear
For all the confusion, and everyones fear

“lock him away for harboring such a menace”
“Give him some bread, water, and some lettuce”
“Starve him, chain him, let him lose weight”
“Sentence him to a Terrible fate”

They cast me into a dungeon full of goo
I seemed a familiar spirit, but who
It was green and sticky, like my green putty
Yes this was the reproduction of my green buddy

At first I feared it would eat me soon
As a beam of light lit the room
It twitched and wiggled in the cell so deep
It scared me so, I couldn't sleep

Then it covered me drew so near
It embraced me and thought me dear
It may have been a terror to all other
But thought of me as its mother

It slithered into the dungeon's door
Slipped into the keyhole pore
It jiggled and wiggled the door lock
I was worried and watched the clock

Then the door swung open to let me free
It oozed into the hall way as far as I could see
It smothered the guards and it lead me out
It went down their throats to prevent any shout

We fled into the heart of the town
We moved about not making a sound
I found myself something to eat
While every foe my putty was able to defeat

We would have to leave this urban scrawl
And go where we're not known at all
They wouldn't let us leave in peace
They would try to kill us or hurt us at least

They burnt putty out of every drain
And every pipe they did the same
Drying up every piece of goo
They'd keep working till they were through

The last of putty and I held up in a narrow place
His destruction I'd soon have to face
They would come soon with a wall of flame
His fate and mine would be the same

I hear them coming to destroy the rest
of putty's off spring in our secret nest
Out shot a flame of fire so red
putty screamed and I jumped out of bed

It was a nightmare in the heat of the night
And putty is still in my underarm suffering its plight
I drank a glass of water filled to the rim
And back to my bed and let my eyes dim

I tossed and turned the rest of the night
And for some sound sleep, I tried to fight
Was this dream foreboding for putty
Would I loose my green little buddy

In the morning it showed up true
That my putty was no longer new
It had died during the night
But I hadn't given up with out a fight

As you hear the sadness of this poem
and as you travel back to your home
don't gnaw your leg off with emotional pain
for compassion to all is the poets aim

Putty. Putty. Putty.
Green Putty - Grutty Peen.
Grarmpitutty - Morning!
Pridsummer - Grorning Utty!
Discovery..... Oh.
Putty?..... Armpit?
Armpit..... Putty.
Not even a particularly
Nice shade of green.

Brittle poodle-spit colored layer on a lump shaped nugget
I have found my muse
in the coarse dry hairy pit like a bug bladder
with urinary tract impingement.
For it is in this I have smelt the incredulous aroma of fixation
so inquiring
that reminded me of the one time I was floundered
with a foot contagion that went on for three weeks
and I was forced to drain fluid from my middle toe seven times a day.

It is this diminutive green putty I extracted that stuck slightly to my fingers like a worm
whom was left out in the hot sun with no water for too long and melted to the side of a building.
And I believe
(or at least I think because at the moment I had not eaten in four hours and I only had a small meal before hand, when usually I like to have a light snack after breakfast and before lunch)
that in this lump of small green putty I found in my armpit one midsummer morning
was the source of the smell that had caused the avian I had stepped on earlier to convulse and foam from its beak. I kept the lump, close to all the things I held dear in a jar
between the brown lump I had found behind my left ear one early summer afternoon
and the article of green blue brown maroon and fuchsia I had found on the side of the highway.

I will cherish my newly found treasure
the way I treasured that small fuzzy item that was under my stool
when I was picking up the noodle I dropped from lunch a week and a half ago.
As for the avian, I have placed it in a jar next to the green blue brown maroon and fuchsia article I had found on the side of the highway.

Putty. Putty. Putty.
Green Putty - Grutty Peen.
Grarmpitutty - Morning!
Pridsummer - Grorning Utty!
Discovery..... Oh.
Putty?..... Armpit?
Armpit..... Putty.
Not even a particularly
Nice shade of green.

Oh, putty and your putty-ish ways,
How I wish to remember this moment.
I found you festering in my armpit this afternoon.
In the middle of summer.
In this field of green grass and bovine-like animals.
The green color of the field reminds me of yours.
Green putty in my hand,
How I want to make you known.
Small, you are, but putrid, nonetheless.
Putty, putty, putty.
Spawned from my armpit,
I recently found you.
However, larger have I found in my bellybutton.
Oh well, none of those putties were as puttiful as you.
You are perfection.
You are green.
You are the eputtimy of putties.
Oh, how I want to remember this day!
This sweet midsummer afternoon!
This great day I found you, green lump of putty.
And lumpy, you are.
And green.
And, oh, how I love thee,
Small lump of green putty.
This day shall not be forgotten.
Forgotten, not will it be.
Remembered, yes.
Forgotten, no.
For I have written this ode to you,
My green lump of small putty,
Which I found in my armpit
This sweet midsummer afternoon.

Putty. Putty. Putty.
Green Putty - Grutty Peen.
Grarmpitutty - Morning!
Pridsummer - Grorning Utty!
Discovery..... Oh.
Putty?..... Armpit?
Armpit..... Putty.
Not even a particularly
Nice shade of green.

1) Okay, yes there is. This the wiki of lies after all.
2) Don't say I didn't warn you
3) During a reading of this poem, four of his audience died of internal hemorrhaging and the president of the Mid-Galactic Arts Nobbling Council survived by gnawing one of his own legs off.
4) So this poem IS dangerous, even by Improbable Island standards
 
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