Harry Huckle's Hippie Treehouse
a fort of nailed-up chestnut
perches in a nook
it's crude and sports a window
climb up and take a look
inside you'll find two hippies
filthy, high and hot
banging on the bare boards
these freaks do smush a lot
sweaty, steamy bushes
coated with the crabs
veiny wiener, inflamed beaver
rock the wooden slabs
when these freaks aren't lusting
they suck smoke from their bong
or inject sister morphine
is this life so wrong?
hanging in the treehouse
humping, getting high
these hippies cause no trouble
they'll chill until they die