The Turd

There's a turd on my front lawn.
How can that be?
I don't have a dog.
They're not allowed.

How can I get it up?
I don't have a scooper.
And I certainly don't intend to use my hand.

What will people think?
"He has a turd on his front lawn," they'll say.
A big gray-green turd,
right there where everyone can see.
It's very humiliating,
but what can I do?
I'm not responsible.

Perhaps there's a turd-removal agency in the yellow pages.
But I don't think so.
How does one get rid of a turd on one's front lawn?
No one else has a turd on their front lawn, that I can see,
Will I have to mow around it?
Everyone will be watching me.

I can't mow through it.
It might go into someone else's lawn.
Then they will be mad at me.
"He tried to fling his turd into our front lawn," they'll
say.
But if I don't do something soon my neighbors will call the
police.
And they'll arrest me for having a turd on my front lawn.
A big gray-green turd.
They'll say I put it there deliberately.
The newspapers will come and take pictures.
Then everyone will point me out and say,
"There's the man with the turd on his front lawn."

I don't dare put it in the trash though.
If the trashmen found out they would boycott me.
But I have to do something,
or people will be lining up to look at my turd.
How could this be happening?
I have always tried so hard.
But now there's a turd on my front lawn.
And it will be the end of me.

by Ken Thomas