One morning in my bedroom
I was startled by a snake,
so I picked him up and took him out
and threw him in the lake.

He returned a minute later,
meaning, no, he didn't drown,
so I put him on my bicycle
and rode him out of town.

It was hardly half an hour
till he turned up in my room,
so I packed him in a parcel
and I shipped him to Khartoum.

When I found him back again
on the succeeding afternoon
I went looking for a way that
I could blast him to the moon.

When I couldn't find a rocket
it was then I knew that, dang,
a snake is yours forever
once he eats your boomerang.

--Kenn Nesbitt

This poem appears in the book
The Tighty-Whitey Spider