If I had a tail

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.


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