Hello there
I’m back again
What’s going on
Inside my brain
There’s a pink bunny
Running in the snow
Dismantle! Transform!
Wheeze gasp blow
Millions of ants
Spiders, too
And of hippopotami
There are a few
This poem sucks
But it’s a trend
It’s not pureed
It’s Folgers blend
Hablas espanol?
Gordo, Senor?
Aaugh! Not Spanish!
I can’t take no more
Axe through my head
Sew it up quick
The contents of my mind
Even make me sick.
Archive for July, 1987
0
People say there are always times in your life
When you feel the answer is the blade of a knife
A quick slice across the wrists
Then a convulsive clench of fists
As the blood wells, spurts, and drips
An intake of breath through parted lips
Crimson health pouring out of your hands
No more problems and no more demands.
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