Tarzan's Makeover

by Albert Van Hoogmoed

THERE once was an ape-man
who lived in the trees,
the Lord of the Jungle,
of all that he sees.

He wore him a loincloth
of animal hide
and lived with a monkey
who stayed by his side.

Last summer, in August,
some fellows showed up,
those fashion designers
who clean people up.

They cleaned up the treehouse
and sprayed it for ants.
They added some flowers
and got him some pants.

They grabbed hold of Cheetah
and checked him for ticks.
They gave him a haircut
and then had him fixed.

Then there was Tarzan,
that muscle-bound male.
What those guys were thinking
could land them in jail!

The first thing they taught him
was how he should talk,
and then, by example,
to properly walk.

After he showered,
they frosted his hair.
They waxed his bikini
and his derriere.

They gave him an earring
and teased up his hair
so he would look good
as he swings through the air.

These days poor old Cheetah's
a sad sight to see.
He's always depressed
and he stays in his tree.

And Tarzan no longer
has feelings for Jane.
It seems that his manhood
has gone down the drain.

He swings through the trees
in a little red thong,
and peels his bananas
correctly, not wrong.

Now he's got manners
and knows how to dress.
He's ''Queen of the Jungle!''
Good Lord, what a mess!

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