Ok, Here is my entry.
 
"Of Stewed Potatoes"
 
And while from bath to drawer I race
My heart is pounding in its place
My feet are damp
and slightly hot
and lightly tender
but wrinkled not
 
I glance about
the coast is clear
I run so fast with naked rear
for fear
so near
the jaws and tongues of wispy ghosts
will find delight
in nipping toes
those dripping toes
Just like potatoes spooned gently
from a boiling stew
I knew
 
They could not resist but to chomp
my morsels of toes
with delicacies in mind.
 
 
Sincerely,
Stephanie, Chimi & Pepe ("mmmmm hot steamy toes")
[Posted in FML issue 2977]