THE CANNIBAL FLEA
IT was many and many a year ago
In a District called E. C.,
That a Monster dwelt whom I came to know
By the name of Cannibal Flea,
And the brute was possessed with no other thought
Than to live—and to live on me!
I was in bed, and he was in bed
In the District named E. C.,
When first in his thirst so accurst he burst
Upon me, the Cannibal Flea,
With a bite that felt as if some one had driven
And this was the reason why long ago
In that District named E. C.
I tumbled out of my bed, willing
To capture the Cannibal Flea,
Who all the night until morning came
Kept boring into me!
It wore me down to a skeleton
In the District hight E. C.
From that hour I sought my bed—eleven—
Till daylight he tortured me.
Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know
In that District named E. C.)
I so often jumped out of my bed by night
Willing the killing of Cannibal Flea.
But his hops they were longer by far than the hops
Of creatures much larger than he—
Of parties more long-legged than he;
And neither the powder nor turpentine drops,
Nor the persons engaged by me,
Were so clever as ever to stop me the hop
Of the terrible Cannibal Flea.
For at night with a scream, I am waked from my dream
By the terrible Cannibal Flea;
And at morn I ne'er rise without bites—of such size!—
From the terrible Cannibal Flea.
So I'm forced to decide I'll no longer reside
In the District—the District—where he doth abide,
The locality known as E. C.
That is postally known as E. C.
Tom Hood, Jr.