[Roger Slater]

My pirhana
is a prima donna,
so fussy that
she only dines on aristocrat.

[Roger Slater]

My humpback whale
put a mast and sail
in his blowhole, and now when it's breezy
he need not work or strain to move but can zip along taking it easy.

[Roger Slater]

My lobster
is not a mobster,
but I see why you may be suspicious.
I meant something completely different when I said he sleeps with the fishes.

[Roger Slater]

The weasel
said, "Please'll
you quit calling dishonest people "weasely"?
My feelings can be hurt rather easily.

[Brian Allgar]

I fed my iguana
On a diet of banana,
But the poor fellow
Turned from green to bright yellow.

[John Isbell]

Roger, your extended final verses remind me of one of my favorite limericks:

There was a young man of japan
Whose limericks never would scan.
When asked why this was,
He said, "It's because
I always try to cram as many syllables into the last verse as ever I possibly can."

Cheers,
John

[Roger Slater]

Let's ponder
the condor
whose name bespeaks elegance and culture,
even though, when push comes to shove, he's just a rebranded vulture.

[Julie Steiner]

The chigger
injects enzymes into the skin of creatures far bigger
than itself, then slurps up the resulting mush, avoiding all question
of in-digestion.

[Julie Steiner]

N. fowleri, the brain-eating amoeba,
makes even the songs of Justin Bieber
seem like something you'd like in your head
instead.

My muse,
as must be obvious to anyone who views
my poetic output, is both cynically critical
and parasitical.

[Roger Slater]

A bat
would go splat
on a cave wall -- end of story --
if he depended on the visual and not the auditory.