There is an ion in my pocket and I don’t care
I don’t even know how it got there
I know there’s something wrong with it’s electron
But what the hell, it’s not like it needs to be egged on
These things are simply a part of natural order
Like my toothbrush, my car or my amazing daughter
Suddenly I started thinking about the dog crap in my yard
Like magic it landed every day–never loud, never hard
It was squishy like pumpkin pie
I was being shit-bombed by a dog and a guy
I set up a watchtower beside my house
I made it off limits to my daughter and spouse
I went to Dick’s and bought a rod and reel, some line, and a tuna lure
I was going to hook the bastard from my tower for sure
Around 11.00 pm they came in my yard
I thought, “Oh my God, this is going to be hard.”
The person leaving the poop was my mother who lived down the street
I guess I have to concede defeat
I couldn’t hook my mother and reel her in
I didn’t have a net that she would fit in
Also, I didn’t have a gaff
As usual, my mother got the last laugh