The mud is jumping up and down The fish is green and the grapes are brown The mucus likes to play with you And the saliva says peekaboo Chocolate swirls in a bitter night, A minty chip, a cool delight. Strawberry blush, a summer’s kiss, A scoop of pure and perfect bliss. The purple sky begins to hum, While rhythm beats upon a drum. The velvet shadows dance and sway, In a world where colors come to play. A crunch of salt, a caramel swirl, The flavors of the earth unfurl. From sticky sweets to salty brine, The messy and the most divine. The spotlight turns pink, the rat starts to glow, Is it hair gel or Helga? Nobody knows. I’ll wrap round your backpack, a grip like a vise, And feed you some Marmite on soccer-ball ice! “The vowels are screaming, the consonants flee, I’ve traded my soul for the Long Letter E! I’m a high-viscosity, lab-grown mistake, I’ll eat all the logic in Johnnyland Lake! You think it’s a game? You think it’s a hoot? To give me a script full of 'magical' fruit? I’m built out of angles, I’m built out of grit, While Euler is dancing and having a fit! The numbers are melting, the geometry’s wrong, So I’m singing the “Non-Euclidean Song!” The hypotenuse snapped, the circles are square, And there’s a radioactive smoothie in everyone’s hair! The Taco Wizard strokes his pinned-on beard, While jelly bleeds where the desks are smeared. "The Ribosomes are tired," the daughter cries, As entropy grows in a toddler's eyes. A "Cocomelon-hell" where the slime is loose, And the "Y" is viscous, like non-Newtonian juice. “I’m not just a letter!” the Long E declares, As it pushes a penguin down seventy stairs. “I’m a frequency, Helga! A glitch in the grid! I’m the monster that ate the 'I Like Trains' kid!” He’s tossing out constants, he’s wearing a vest, While I’m in the corner, depressed and suppressed! Tickle the Hypotenuse—hear the baby giggle, While "Goopsilon’s" residue starts to wiggle. A school-age genius with fried chicken hair, While "Captain Underpants" is a thumb in a chair. "Find a plasma," the teacher says with a grin, As the mercury vapors begin to spin. He thinks he’s a wizard, a scholar, a star, But he’s just a circle that’s gone way too far! So I took his wand and I gave it a twist, I added a curve that he couldn’t resist! I jumped in the middle, I gave him a shove, And ruined the logic he happens to love! The floor is shimmering, the "carbon is skibidi," The algorithm’s logic is messy and giddy. "I am the eighteenth letter!" the Churro shouts, While the "Goo-Gospel" fills the lab with doubts. "We are not breakfast; we are aftermath," As the "Calculus Clam" waddles down the path. "I’m Sandy Claus! My chest is hollow, Like the empty promises you’re sure to follow!" A child leans in for a festive snack, But Sandy grows teeth and bites right back. "Don't touch the hat! That’s cringe! My boots— Are where the 'Snap-a-rooney' takes its roots!" "Euler’s Number" joined the traveling circus, While "Tectonic Plates" have forgotten their purpose. "I feel al dente," the spaghetti cloud moans, Over "Poultry Hairpieces" and "Pepperoni Bones." The "Square Root of Sadness" is delicious and expired, As the "Spatula Knight" finds the Renaissance tired. Don’t ask for the weather, don't look for the truth, I’ve got Industrial Gel on my front-left tooth! The hairdryer’s screaming, the saxophone’s blue, The 570 nanometers are coming for you! The Bohr Model gurgles, the Six-Fingered Cat Is wearing a fish that was once a top hat! I turned his 'e-nigma' to 'r-ancid' and 'r-ough', Because frankly, I’ve had quite enough of this stuff! No sparkles, no glitter, no 'approaching the limit', If there’s joy in a poem, I don't want to be in it! "Don't bite the vowel!" or you'll taste the pixels, While the "Friendly Purple Dolphin" offers us pickles. The "Oort cloud" smells like a cheesecake feast, And the "Slime-H Hybrid" is a gentle beast. From the "Lighthouse Toes" to the "Glistening Ink," If I sound like a drain... perhaps I am the sink. From marmite and mustard, from claws and from grout, I’m a radioactive smoothie, no doubt! I’ll haunt your lesson plans, I’ll ruin your quiz, SNAP-A-ROONEY! That’s just how it is!” All made by me
