Today I walked into my big brother's room,
and that's when I saw it: The Armpit of Doom.
I wasn't expecting The Armpit at all.
I shrieked and fell backward and grabbed for the wall.
The Armpit was smelly. The Armpit was hairy.
The Armpit was truly disgusting and scary.
I wanted to vomit. I wanted to cry.
I wanted to flee from its all-seeing eye.
My skin started crawling with goosebumps and chills.
My brain began screaming to head for the hills.
I tried to escape but I knew I could not.
In horror, I found I was glued to the spot.
"Will somebody help me!?" I started to shout,
till fumes overcame me and made me pass out.
And that's why I'm here in this hospital room;
it's all on account of The Armpit of Doom.
I'm still feeling shaken. I'm queasy and pale,
but lucky I lived and can tell you my tale.
So take my advice... If you ever go near
your big brothers room, bring a whole lot of gear:
A gas mask and goggles, a helmet and shield,
or maybe a space suit that's perfectly sealed.
And then, only then, when you're fully prepared,
step in very slowly and hope you'll be spared.
But, if you're afraid of the Armpit of Doom,
stay far, far away from your big brother's room.
Would you like to use this poem in your classroom? Would you like permission to reprint,
record, recite or broadcast this poem, or set it to music?
Please click on one of the following links for
permissions and reprint rights information:
Teachers may find this information useful. Please note that Lexile Measures are intended for prose, not poetry. So, technically, the
Lexile Measure of any poem should be NP (for non-prose).
Nevertheless, this information is frequently requested, so I provide the Lexile Measure for this poem as if it were prose. The Grade Level Average,
below, may be a more accurate guide to the reading level of this poem.