Poem: AT HILLCREST CEMETARY IN KENT, WASHINGTON, I WALK BY THE GRAVE OF SAM THE GRASSEATER

I walk past the grave
Of Sam the Grasseater (he took no chances).
He was known for improper advances
(No woman over fifty was safe).

He mowed lawns and dug
Every single grave in town.
The first grave in forty years
He had not personally dug
Was the one where he sank down,
As Sam would say,
Snug as a bug in the rug.
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