The clay baker
carefully shoves the
squishy stuff
into his special
mold.

But something is slightly
off,
kind of...
(oh how did he put it)
"Queer."

"My, how peculiar,"
said the clay maker
"How queer."

"How what?" his wife
hollered.

"How queer." he said
back.

"What?"

"Queer!"

"Huh?"

"QUEER!"

"What??"

"QUEER! QUEER
QUEER QUEER
QUEER! Why does
it have to be so
fucking queer?!"