A Poem About The Anatomy Teacher
October 19, 2009
The anatomy teach gave me the creeps.
So I avoided his class with persistence.
My friends sang the song, "You've got it all wrong!
You just have to get used to his brilliance!"
But I knew it was lies when I saw his dead eyes,
And he began the first class with this spiel:
"The texture of hamstrings is like stringy ham,
But the calf muscles taste like fine veal."
Part of the Poems series.