The following brief poem is based in fact and derived from a wonderful book, "Little Lives," by John Howland Speicher.
They used to call her "Make a Wish Come True,"
But that was close as truth would dare to come
For fear of taint, and though she troubled some
I was amused by one born short a s***w.
She claimed she left her body and she flew;
Her porcine squeals would break our tedium.
She said she split in two and could become
The paramour who'd left her dress askew.
And when we spoke of her we each would wink
And make a finger circle by our head
And laugh so hard that we would want to cry.
I doubted she could care less what we'd think,
But still we bought a stone when she was dead
And on it said "Budgy, this is no lie."
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