Tiger Propaganda Three

My hair is newly orange
A tiger told me to dye it
Even though it lacks stripes
Everyone should try it

Did you know that hair dye
Can make you feel much stronger
And that orange the color
Will make you feel leaner and longer?

Orange is underrated
Except by poachers and thieves
But tigers know the value
Of eating a poacher with leaves

Tigers are the best at things
Like having teeth and claws
And owning orange, encouraging us
To take care and look after their paws

A Spirited Choice

It seems again the spirits dance
I can’t escape their ghostly trance

Should I join their bacchanale
And see what has them in a thrall?

They dance on the roof where most of us
Don’t stray for fear there’d be a fuss

I wonder why the spirits frolic
When the baby downstairs might have colic

I guess I’d only know the answer
If I went to the roof and joined as a dancer

Oh spirits, rocking your bods to the silent beat
Could you move the party over some other suite?

Tiger Propaganda Two

Tigers should be near and dear
To every child’s heart
It doesn’t matter that you might fear
It ripping a child apart

A tiger is a deadly killer
But it may have a conscience
Baby eating wouldn’t be much filler
And tigers always have good sense

A tiger may lament this fact
But tigers know it’s true
And most likely leave your baby intact
So why not let them out of the zoo?

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The Hungry Tiger from Ozma of Oz

Beanstock Exchange

If we paid for things in coffee beans
They’d give baristas tests and screens
Coffee shops, they might show scenes
Like people rushing the bank

Might people stop drinking a daily coffee
Unless they’re stupidly wealthy?
Could you trade inflation for high quality?
Would a burned bean earn you less rank?

Baristas would be chased by gold diggers
Or have trophy spouses it figures

Tiger Propaganda

A tiger sits and waits to pounce
His tail may give a little flounce
But tigers, deadly through and through
Can’t wait to stalk and pounce on you

Tigers are the very best
They’ll sleep all day and still need rest
But don’t mess with a tiger’s nap
Else you’ll be dead faster than you can snap

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Saltly on the Land

What would I do
If I stepped in a shoe
Full of the salt of the land?

I guess I would cry
Because snow from the sky
Is being melted before it can stand

I don’t mind the snow
But can people just go
And shovel, not sprinkle salt or sand?

I’m tired of tracking in grit
And cringing as if I’ve been hit
But I guess it’s the life I demand