It’d be fun.
If I had a tail, it’d be pretty nifty,
Not an inch long, but closer to fifty.
One with a grip that holds things well,
Like a big, sturdy branch if I slipped and fell,
While climbing an oak with my brand new appendage
And talking to flyies in their flighty bird language.
I could also cook and read while I walk.
The hand holds the book and the tail bakes the hawk
I could flambé and grill and braise.
While learning about an intellectual craze.
I could play the guitar while drinking a beer.
Hydrate myself, no messing-up fear.
Would take no breaks while doing a gig.
I’d just shred and tap and swig.
I could do a backflip with a simian style.
It’d look so silly it’d make you smile.
With a big tail you can change your spin.
It’s a bit better than your arm or your shin.
I could hug a friend extra, extra tight.
They’d feel even warmer, even quite.
I could lift them up much easier than before.
Hold them tight and high till my tail got sore.
I’d do these things if I got it in the mail.
I’d do them all, with my nifty new tail.