A flea sat in the poodle's hair
because he had been stationed there.
His mother left to bug a cat
that's where she stayed and soon got fat.
One day the master brought some spray
just when the poodle meant to play.
He sprayed them both to kill the fleas
but through the window came a breeze.
It turned the vapours right around
and soon he fell down to the ground.
The fleas however were unscathed
until they were quite roughly bathed
inside a tub of foul solution
that had come from an institution
where poisons do originate
to give all fleas with death a date.
I sometimes wonder whether we
should have the only right to be.
Though, as a rule a flea is hiding
it could mean that he's law-abiding
and lives his life with honesty
so leave him be, if you ask me.
The little flea was left alive
to rest inside the hair and thrive.
He never figured out the reason
that poodles do not, with the season
lose hair and shed like other mutts
(that's why they get those razor cuts) .
But in the end he didn't care,
lived by the motto laissez-faire.
Herbert Nehrlich
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/two-fleas/
