I Failed at Writing Like Dr. Seuss

The day was quite hot.
The sky was quite sunny.
But in the big pot,
not one thing was funny.

There sat the leeks,
the carrots, and bones.
There boiled the cheeks
of cows and their tongues.

In through the door
came the chef, with his knife;
and there on the floor
he threw his poor wife.

Her carcass was butchered
with sweet tender care.
And when he was footchered,
he left her right there.

Straight to his bed
he went for the night.
He laid down his head.
He turned out the light.

Late in the night
he heard a strange sound,
and there stood his wife
with her head twisted 'round!

On all fours she crawled
toward his fright-stiffened form.
Through stiff lips she drawled
"Why do me such harm?

I treated you well,
And gave you my all.
So you go to hell!"
And she cut off his balls!

She used his own knife
to do the dread deed.
That long-suffering wife,
found true rest indeed.