What In The Hell Was I Thinking?

by Ken Carpenter

The brains and ears of my wife and I do not mesh very well occasionally. Several times a day one of us will say something and the listener’s face will go blank with confusion.
Some uncharitable friends of mine may say, “So what, you always look like that.” Others might write it off to partially clogged ear holes. Most will think it is the Mars versus Venus thing, and that men and women operate on different wavelengths. That happens to be my opinion too.
Regardless, something happened the other day that topped the list of our miscommunications. A good friend of ours was over and Joy was telling her something about the 1963 folk song Puff The Magic Dragon, by Peter, Paul and Mary.
I sat stone faced, wondering if I could possibly have heard what I thought I heard. A knowing look from Joy prompted me to ask, “Did you say Fuck, The Magic Dragon?”
The peals of laughter were so loud and long that one of our roosters outside shrieked a warning to the flock. When it quieted down a little I arched my eyebrows and snorted.
Needless to say, Puff’s name had not been legally changed to Fuck. Whether it was my brain or ears, I can’t say. The faulty hearing episode, whatever the cause, did trigger a demented thought in my little pea brain.
What if I wrote a parody of the old song so many kids have learned to love? I voiced my thought and the two ladies rolled their eyes, expecting nothing less than a sick, twisted abomination of a sad, innocent song.
Guess what? They were right.
Here goes.

Fuck, The Magic Dragon

Fuck, the magic dragon lived by the dump
And every chance that bugger got he screwed creatures in the rump
Rats and crows and coyotes watched their ass with care
But Fuck just cackled at them with his boner in the air

Fuck, the magic dragon liked the smell of pee
And he frolicked in the golden mist ‘neath the ravens pissing tree
All the other dragons called him Needle Dick
But he just snorted at them and stayed hard as a brick

One day Fuck was flying, searching for some butt
When he spied a rumpled farmer bent over by his hut
Fuck swooped down with pleasure delighted by his find
For he had never sampled a human’s plump behind

Fuck, the magic dragon had little to beware
And he satisfied his skinny prong without a single care
Fuck, the magic dragon knew nothing about lube
And he cared even less if he was thought a thoughtless boob

The farmer he was after was known as Grizzled Jones
And his old ugly asshole knew nothing about bones
When Fuck swooped to his target with lust in his green eyes
He never once suspected Jones would give him a surprise

Grizzled Jones was famous for boning his old cow
And soon he had that dragon Fuck bent over his new plow
Fuck roared with indignation as his arse was reamed with speed
And Jones hollered like a banshee as he released his seed

Fuck, the magic dragon now lives upon a farm
And if he holds his bottom right he comes to little harm
Fuck, the magic dragon does little more than sigh
When Grizzled Jones approaches with that look within his eye

Fuck, the magic dragon is ignored by all his peers
For they think it unseemly that he takes it in the rear
Fuck, the magic dragon ignores them all for now
And he is satisfied because he fucks the farmer’s cow.

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