Hairy Hangover
Four feet stumbled in a whiskey fog
past the damp row and the old bog
Singing cats danced on his brain
Nothing seemed to ease his pain
Not even the hair of the dog
YOU ARE READING
Malkin of Tabbyland
PoetryCongratulations to the winner of our March 2019 Contest @ImperfectPsychotic04! Hello and Welcome to the Poets Pub 2019 March contest.
