The Red, orange, yellow leaves Crunch under my bare feet The autumn glow shines on the tree bark The call of a distant lark And then I feel something squish below A brown sticky substance on my feet does it go What is that? I wonder aloud It’s a pile of squirrel poop, large and round It came out of a squirrel’s bottom Yucky, smelly, stinky, and rotten And now I am stuck with it on my foot but you know what? I don’t mind it so much down on my feet It feels kind of nice in the early fall heat It protects me from poking sticks and twigs It makes me smell like pigs Which I like. I love that I smell like squirrel poop I love that I smell like a chicken coop I love the poop so darn much And I think I will now eat it for lunch.