Classy Poetry for Classy People

Barack Obama called me and told me that I would be deported to Zimbabwe unless I made this week Rainbow Squirrels Piss-Poor Poetry Week. I'm not even sure if Zimbabwe is still a country, but who am I to argue with the President of the United States? So, here goes 7 nights of poetry.

Moo moo milk cow
Looking at me.
If he was a little bird,
He would live up in a tree.
I would still need milk from him
And hear me, I won't studder;
It is quite a strange happening
To see a bird with an udder.

Thank you, and enjoy your evening.