The Tale of Trifton Glomghoul the III and other review poems

What is that?

What in the name of Mary Elizabeth Winstead is causing that smell?

I thought it was the garbage but you took that out this afternoon round 12.

I've searched under couches, tables and chairs,

So what in the heck is causing that smell?

Headache

It started in the neck

Sometime in the night

With a fierce kind of throbbing

And a knot pulling tight

It ran up my skull 

And into my brain

With no end in sight 

To unbelievable pain

Hector

Hector is the name of a fish

A fish?

Yes a fish.

Does he have gold stripes and bright orange lips?

Does he swim around fast, circling your hips?

No, he just lays there on a plate and gets et.

Time

Time is pressing all around

Moving faster 

Moving us now

But I'm standing here

Playing my Wii

Just trying to kill time

Before time kills me.

The Tale of Trifton Glomghoul the III

Trifton Glomghoul was as depressing as his name

The third of four Glomghouls who were all the same

Cloned one day on the fourth of July

From DNA mixed with that of a fly's

Trifton the III or Trify for short

Had a face like an angel but with a devil's horns

 And when he was born he didn't weep or cry

He just looked to the heaven's as if asking, 'why?'

He had no friends 'cept his brothers three

And the scientists who had cloned them 'successfully'

But Trify was born for greatness they say

No wait, I'm thinking of Dorris Day

Que Sera, poor Trifton I remember now

He died shortly after being sat on by a cow.