It's muddy.
It's cruddy.
It's grimy.
It's slimy.
It's sludge.
It's smudge.
It slishes and sloshes
On children's galoshes.
The abundance of grime
is truly a crime.
Mothers always have fears
it's behind someone's ears.
And its usual place
is on someone's face.
By Elissa Alter Hebbe
copyright 1980
© 1997