My Bubby

My Bubby is a lonely man.  

He’s hiding in my cupboard.

At times he wants some pizza, pan.

I tell him if he’s hungry, roam.

The car would be escaping home.

But he is kind of smelly.

My Bubby, he likes hiding there

Where never was there underwear.

His fear of tighty Whities bloom.

And so he hides where cupboards loom.

They call him mucus Nelly.

One day we brought him pizza’s butts

So he’d more closely sniff its guts.

We travelled to the moon and back

We went there for the Pizza Shack.

The food is great and it’s home grown

And that’s what makes it special.

The Spacy food, it tastes so great.

My Bubby needs some ‘fore he’s late.

The Moony cheese, it tastes so fine
Like older cheese and ported wine.

But when we fed him in the late

He changed into a Gremlin.

And man, my mom, she is so stressed.

I tell my mom who thinks she’s blessed

That Bubby is so full of zest.

She never listens when he speaks.

Instead, her voice, it sounds like squeaks.

He tries to rest throughout the night

But then she tries to feed him.

Where Mucus  says he hides and plays

I’m not so sure he’s full of rays.

But at least we saw the moon those days

And so he saw the night.

My Bubby is a lonesome man,

He’s in seclusion night and day

Inside the cupboard’s tightened grasp

Avoiding tighty whitie’s clasp.

But that’s OK for Pizza’s sake,

For Pizza’s here and gets a break

From lonely mouths a chewing.