The great big hairy spider
climbed up the water spout.
We got the garden hose
and we washed the spider out.
We grabbed the brand new shovel
and we whacked him over the head.
Now the great big hairy spider
is good and flat and dead.
Author notes
I made this one up when I got sick, sick, sick of singing the itsy bitsy spider to my son.
A contest entry
- Nursery Rhymes Gone Bad by Syko Path.
375 points, ended June 7, 32 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest

