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I’d asked for a Shark, but they gave me a Snark
For my birthday, a great disappointment.
It snickered and snarled, it was wrinkled and gnarled,
And it ate all my grandmother’s ointment.
We offered it Porridge and Pelican Pie,
Yet the Snark most ungraciously spurned it.
My grandmother swore that the creature must die,
So she built a great bonfire and burned it.
But as the flames guttered, my grandmother muttered:
“I don’t like the look of those flinders.
They’re squirming and squiggling, they’re writhing and wriggling   
There’s something alive in the cinders.”
From the ashes, a frightful monstrosity stirred,
Performing grotesque callisthenics.
It towered above us, a huge, vengeful bird,
For it wasn’t a Snark, but a Phoenix!