rewriting the opening words of the Lefty and the Human tale

Lefty bopped like he walked on air
instead of a walkway
that had known brighter times.
Supposing a curiosity
would stir and snatch up a scope,
whether from an afar perch or from
as near as the uncultivated brambles
that were making decent inroads
over the walkway
and who did not even bother to try

and tell Lefty
a bit of local gossip,
well such a scoping curiosity
would find little
room to debate a claim
that Lefty owned all of a realm
that mattered. Lefty’s rodent head
with its spruced up tuft stood tall
and his basic brown furry shoulders
were set back and he let

his toned critter muscles
show all the woodsy elements
he bopped by, that Lefty’s
frequent clambers
up and down trees and loping
over streams and hauling
nuts the old-fashioned
way, were the sculptor
strokes that kept his muscles
looking as ripped as they were.

The source of Lefty’s airy carriage
was a sexy skunkess
Lefty was on his way to see;
she lived in a moss-covered
log about five critter-minutes
from the point this
tale’s opening scene finds
Lefty bopping along on the broken
walkway. She’d sent a message through
the woodsy communications network,

letting Lefty
know she was free this night and to know
of his hot skunkess’s
availability was
all the invitation he needed
to scuttle whatever
loose plans he’d had, because since he’d met
his sexy skunkess, nothing was
as important as taking any chance to be
with her, for she’d blown Lefty’s

little critter mind
as Lefty‘s mind had never been
blown with any other
critteress – whether racoonettes,
or other skunkesses or bunnies
or chipmunkstresses…. Lefty
supposed he’d amorously
sampled just about every
critteress there was, yes, even
the beavers, and of all of them,

yes, even including the beavers,
the skunkesses made his knees
the most weak and aroused him to
levels no other critteress did.
But even out of
all the skunkesses
Lefty had sampled, and he’d have
no place to deny they’d had their ways
of blowing his mind, the skunkess
Lefty was on his way to see

blew Lefty’s little
critter mind like no other
critteress or skunkess
Lefty’s mind had ever been blown by.  
When he’d return to his home hole
which was a hole in a fat old
oak, and he’d collapse
on his little critter
pad, he’d summon the few abilities
for rational thought that were able

to function and try to figure out
what it was about this particular
skunkess that set her above
(or in some ways devilishly below)
all the others. The best he could come up
with was she’d come into the natural
world with a special
combination of ingredients,
so she might comport herself
with an air of innocence

– perhaps her extra-luxuriant
coat aided this presentation –
acting like she had no idea
of the maddening stream of scents
she exuded. Oh but once
a critter she’d invited closer,
would penetrate past her outer layer
of furry innocence, that critter found
this skunkess had one nasty little
skunkess mind that had no aversion

whatsoever to getting mighty
messy; one kinky stinky skunkess
and the stink this hot kinky skunkess
would leave on him, well,
sexy, heady, stink of skunkess,
lingered well into the next three
days and effectively
yet effortlessly
kept him on a stinky skunkess
high for almost

as long as he had to wait until
hearing she was available
and he could get himself traveling
on that broken walkway,
destination: his sexy-hot
skunkess’s moss-covered log,
where he could forget another realm
could possibly exist and only wish
the skunkess escapades
could be what eternity meant.


About Timmy the Scribbler

Love to write all kinds of stuff I love writing so many different kinds of stuff it is a constant struggle to narrow the focus to a manageable handful and let the others go. But a few years ago I dipped my fingers into a poetry pie and of all my uncertainties, one thing that is no uncertainty is that it is one passion that must remain, so maybe that's the one. I do dearly delight in chopping up fictional works into stanzas and syllables.
This entry was posted in redo, storytelling and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.