On a day of things preposterous
I thought of a hippopotamus
Whom I met quite a long time ago.
The days were all very long back then
When a large thing came into my ken,
And I followed it to its abode.
He was a keen hippo, it turned out;
I knew by view of its snout, then shout:
“Hello, you, there, sir, how does it go?”
I said, “Very well, and you, please tell?”
He replied, “Not well, as life is hell:
The river in one direction flows.”
“Yes, it is certainly true," said I.
“If you were a bird you could fly
Any place that you might choose to go.”
“What could I do to make that come true?”
Asked the hippo, looking still quite blue.
And I said, “I can deduce your foe.
You are quite fat with no wings at that.
You’d be better off being a bat.”
And he said, “Impossible, you know.”
I said, “Not so,” so off we did go
To a great plastic surgeon I know:
Shoulder incision, cartilage graft,
Liposuction away from the aft,
And lab-grown skin fashioned into wings;
So now my friend flies all ways and sings.
— Gabriel Fenteany, March 10, 2014
