Vermin

Filthy pigeons, greasy rats,
Rabid dogs and feral cats.
They bring disease
And leave their droppings everywhere.
No matter where you look,
In every cranny, every nook:
Beady eyes in a malevolent stare.

There are bugs in every bed
And it’s hard to find a head
That hasn’t harbored lice from time to time.
And who among us hasn’t felt
Something worse, below the belt?
They are covering us with their filth and their slime!

It’s time to terminate the vermin!
Exterminate with deadly force!
Though the task may be unpleasant,
When the threat is omnipresent,
We must act without remorse,

As we terminate the vermin
With each poison we apply,
We will show what we are made of,
Let them know we’re not afraid of
How they scratch or they bite or make noises in the night.
We will smite them!
The vermin have to die!

Um, yes, well, quite.

As you can see, sir, we can accommodate any species of vermin, from lice to politicians.

Politicians?

My little joke, sir.

Indeed… Well…
But may I remind you, the problem is my dog. The poor creature has gone mad. How much arsenic will I need?

Arsenic?

For a gentleman such as yourself, sir? Oh dear me, no! Arsenic hasn’t been seen in houses of quality since the Borgias.

Then perhaps, you might recommend? …

Of course, sir. Let me see…

We have cyanide on special.
Ricin’s always nice.
Curare’s quite delightful,
With symptoms truly frightful.
Though it does command a price!

You might try hemlock wrapped in bacon,
Or a death cap ragout?
You will never find a faster means
Of poisoning than castor beans,
Though physic nuts are tasty, too!

You’re mad, sir!

Who? Me? Mad? Not a bit of it!

I always act with rectitude and rationality,
As I meticulously plan each fatality.
So in the end, I will achieve, with finality,
Vermin termination in totality!

I ask you, Sir, do you like vermin?

Well, no!

To favor vermin would be madness?

Just so!

From this I ascertain
That both of us are sane.
So can we please proceed with the show?

Silver nitrate in a pudding,
Can make a widow in a flash.

Or a bit of botulinum on
A buttered scone with cinnamon -
It only takes a dash.

And, of course, there’s yellow phosphorus.
It’s the one we sell the most.
When you see the luminescence -
The spectral phosphorescence
Of the vapors released
By your newly deceased rabid beast,
Your eyes will swear they have seen
A ghost!

I’m sorry, I can’t do it.

You must!

I can’t!

You must!

I Can’t!

Must!

Can’t!

Must!

… I can’t!

Good sir, do I detect the slightest quivering of your lip?

What? Never!

Whether savoring a crumpet,
Or rogering a strumpet,
An English gentleman keeps
A stiff upper lip!

By Jove, I’ll do it!

That’s the ticket, sir!
Here’s what we’ll do:

I’ll make a capsule from Monkshead.
Your hound will swallow it, with glee.
And even if the doggie throws up,
By midnight he’ll be toes up.
Lifeless canine debris.

You will have vanquished the vermin!
Sir, Your chest will swell with pride!
You will have done your bit
To make the city fit
For human habitation.
You’ll be our salvation – our hero!

Thanks to you, sir,
The vermin will die!

"Vermin" Copyright 2014 Paul James Frantz (ASCAP)