so.
I sit here on my lily pad.
fuck you.
I just sit here on my lily pad.
I sound my barbaric yawp.
ribbit.
it’s my poem.
I can say “ribbit”.
I can say “fuck you”.
I am green,
I am wet-skinned.
I sit here on my lily pad.
I am the Froggacuda.
ribbit.
fuck you.
Comments
Froggacuda's Weblog 
[…] of making music, five years of DJ mixes, and one month of unemployment later, I am sitting all froggy on top of a pile of meaningless (to you) shit that perhaps someone will wander through and find a […]
Wasn’t this promted by a Star Trek Ode to kirk or something?
If my memory serves me, Jill Sherwin was reading a poem of hers that somehow related a patchwork blanket to Spock…
[…] I am Thee Froggacuda. Ribbit; fuck you. […]
[…] mountains and the deserts in campfires. They’re all now indexed Internet content and ashes. Ribbit. Fuck you. […]