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                                           Toxicoendendron
                                                 - a poem
                                           by Tim Hempfield

HE rubbed his arms;
He shook his waist;
He cooed softly like a dove.
A shiver ran thru his slender form;
And as she approached he began to squirm;
His eyes blinked wildly, -she thought ÒWhat charm?Ó

He rubbed his legs together;
He stroked his neck above;
And then he gave his elbows a shove.
He began to whisper incoherent blather;
His hands folded in a pleadful matter;
And she giggled ÒOh, with me heÕs in love!Ó

ÒNot really, Nurse, -Ó said the doctor,
Ò-But I guess you did not know;Ó ...
ÒYou see, -Timmy has Poison Oak from head to toe!Ó


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Toxicoendendron is copyright 1997 by Tim Hempfield