As Frankenstein lay slabbed to get his daily million volts

He smiled a green-faced grin, he loved the tingling in his bolts

Then opening his eyes, he blinked, and he could vaguely see

Old Doctor Jekyll in the kitchen, pouring out the tea.

“Wake up Frankie, come and taste my people-flavored tarts,

Made from some dried fruit mixed with left-over body parts;

Raisins, Frankie (naughty monster) please don’t call them boogers,

Drink your tea, you like it sweet, I’ve mixed in sixteen sugars.”

Frankie shook himself awake then shuffled to the table,

Tripped and fell, his feet caught in the mega-voltage cable,

Saw a blinding flash and heard a God-almighty roar,

When the smoke had cleared away, the Doctor was no more.

“Bugger” thought the monster “Who will care for me from here?”

Then he realized that he had cried a tiny tear,

Deep inside he knew he’d miss him, in his heart of hearts,

“I need cheering up” he said, and ate all of the tarts.

Several days went by, and Frankie, hungry and alone,

Summoned all his courage up and used the telephone:

“Hi, I’d like a triple-stacker multi monster pizza!”

“Certainly Sir, right away, er…Mastercard or Visa?”

Hanging up, poor Frankie pondered on his hungry plight

Something had to happen and it had to be tonight,

Putting on a floppy hat, with scarf around his neck,

Headed out into the night, a monster on a trek.

Shuffling down the street he felt the stares of passers by,

Hare Krishnas handed him some nuts “Peace out, big guy!”

Then a big red M appeared and Frankie sniffed the smell:

Beef and buns, sauce, lettuce, cheese and pickles there as well.

As he wandered down the drive he heard a tinny voice:

“Please tell me your order, burgers, fries or what’s your choice?”

Frankie thought it sounded like the Doctor’s telephone

Looking round he realized that he was quite alone.

Fleeing from the ghostly voice, poor Frankie tried to run,

Motion caused the bolts upon his neck to come undone,

Then he felt quite funny, and his rapid shuffling slowed,

Stopping still he coughed and then his head fell on the road.

People screamed upon the sidewalk at this gruesome sight,

There upon the road was Frankie’s body, quite upright,

Frankie’s head rolled to the kerb, he sighed and cursed his luck,

Shuddering, his body was run over by a truck!

Lying in the gutter, Frankie thought: this must be it…

Jekyll’s voice said “Don’t give up now, don’t you ever quit!”

Then a punk walked by, with earrings, piercings, clothing shoddy,

Frankie said: “Excuse me, mate, would you lend me your body?”

Looking at the head the yob was violently sick,

“Leave me be!” he cried, then aimed a fully-weighted kick,

Frankie’s head rolled on the road, the traffic lights turned green,

Yellow squish now in the spot where Frankie’s head had been.

As the crowd dispersed an echoed voice was heard to mutter:

“Should have been content when he was lying in the gutter,

Tried to grab a body, but he grabbed a cab instead,”

Moral of this little tale: Quit When You’re a Head!

 more of my FUNNY POEMS here