she gets catatonic if she can’t give a cat a tonic
she’s got a ring on her finger that’s morosely masonic
Little Miss Offit is on it today
she drinks champagne with her curds and whey
there’s a lift in her linger that’s lately laconic
she gets so dramatic if you dewdrop your duelamatic
but her freak is fantastic at least to a fanatic
Little Miss Offit is on it today
she drinks champagne with her curds and whey
she’s easily distracted by deez and doze and dis and datic
she’s got a belt in her bugle that’s belately Byronic
and a mute in her meltdown that’s minutely moronic
Little Miss Offit is on it today
she drinks champagne with her curds and whey
there’s a swish in her swelter so sweetly symphonic
she gets dogmatic if you try to give her dog static
she’s got a bat in her belfry or was it her attic?
Little Miss Offit is on it today
she drinks champagne with her curds and whey
there’s an owl in her upstairs honestly automatic
she’s got a plague in her playground that was briefly bubonic
and the chrome on her kisser is consistently chronic
Little Miss Offit is on it today
she drinks champagne with her curds and whey
there’s an ilk to her her illness that’s inertly iconic
she dreams of Atlantis if you pray to a praying mantis
and her spurs go on welfare if you can’t give a helping hantis
Little Miss Offit is on it today
she drinks champagne with her curds and whey
then she screams like a screwball and runs and rips and raves and rantis
she was sad in her sandbox and succinctly sardonic
but there’s a hoot in her hoopla happily hydroponic
Little Miss Offit is on it today
she drinks champagne with her curds and whey
there’s a fissure in her future that’s sufficiently phonic
there’s a fish in her gym bag orgiastically antic
and some fruit in her flashbulb flambouyiantly frantic
Little Miss Offit is on it today
she drinks champagne with her curds and whey
and the mush in her Merzbau sailed across the Atlantic
Copyright Hills Snyder, 2004
