Poetry by Jeff Green


Old Mother Hubbard revisited

by cricketjeff on August 4, 2009.  © Jeff Green, All rights reserved

Old Mother Hubbard kept guns in her cupboard
Her dog was a Rhodesian ridge
She thought it a trifle to kill with a rifle
And then store the corpse in her fridge

She got little thanks from the folks in the banks
That she shot as she stole from the vault
She slaughtered the copper who first tried to stop ‘er
And cackled it was his own fault

She found it exciting to bet on dog fighting
She thought being nice a mistake
Her Dad couldn’t handle a dynamite candle
He died when she blew up the cake

And now she lies dying her son had been lying
When he said he hadn’t a gun
He didn’t much hate her, or just want to bait her
But killing your Mum is such fun!!!

Author notes

The Challenge:

Choose a traditional nursery rhyme as a prompt and produce a dark write.

Well it’s not really dark I suppose, but it was fun to write