rat-a-tat-tat

Toni Zamboni had 19 tattoos
by the time she was almost sixteen,
an eagle, a heart, a harp and a fish,
a turtle, a tortoise, James Dean.

A walrus, a wizard, a Jesus, the sun,
An angel, a dove and a man with a shoe,
A skull with a noose, a mean Dr. Seuss
And 13 fat llamas and 1 skinny gnu.

Her father disowned her, her mother did, too,
her boyfriend, he just wondered why,
she had zebras and snakes and a dozen red hens
but no vow, “Earle’s my love ‘til I die.”

Then a funny thing happened one dark, cloudy day
As she sat in Liv’s “Ink-4-U Store,”
Awaiting the tat of a privatest part,
when she wondered if, yes! less was more.

So proud was she that she stood up and cheered
For herself in the midd’e of the place,
Fright’ning five artists and Liv, in mid-draw,
And she said, “I know I’ve got space …

“To put those three words on my back, thigh or butt,
or my cheek, or my jaw, neck or ear,
to finish the message, it will be complete,
those final three words must appear.”

And, so, they did ... with a heron, a horse and a grizzly bear
And a picture of Beiber with all of his hair,
A Chinese translation, a pack of french fries
And a skinny old cat and her skinny nine lives.

Of course.