Pus Mop

Must stop wet lake, see where skin breaks.
Squeeze where my thumb's swelled up
Pus mop, pus no, please stay this flow.
Numbed, hurt—my thumb's swelled up.

Fall from summit near destroyed it—
Skinned and sprained and grimed.
Pall that thumb hurt—'pease annoyed skin
It augurs bleed-paw time.

Red's adorning my wound seeper. . .shaking off the glop.
One tiny pop—
Lanced me could blow free hot green froth.
Falling, feeble. . .fared as if feet—brrrr!—both had chilblains.
Stunned, dazed, I fainted, hurt my groin—whew! Feelin', lame.

That's not whey—the holed thing parted—
Spilling shmutz, this goo.
Kinking pus—a steel hole clamp—
He's pinning with a clew.

Lame the thumb, the iced paw pelting.
No more sweltering, ow!
Vise to kink that fat unguala—
Thread-free glue, pus out.