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Poetry #246
(published September 29, 2005)
The Hoary Hordes of Hoggoth
by Noah Berlatsky
Oh, the hoary hordes of Hoggoth
through the mucky mire sloggoth
and they fill the flustered frogs with fearful dread.
They are grim, and gaunt, and grizzled
as the oldest thing that is old
and barely more alive than what is dead.

Yea, Hoggothic hordes are searching
with limbs lank and thick and lurching,
sniff-snuff snouts and mouths that gape like eyes
for girls who lie and pick their noses
and boys who get jam on their clothes-es
and naughtiness in every shape and size.

When they find the little sinners
they first gibber then say "Dinners!"
in voices damp with pooling, drooling goo.
Then they pick each child up
and feed it cake till it goes "Blup!"
If you're bad enough they'll do the same to you!

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