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Banana peels and pumpkin guts,
And rotted eggs that smell like butts;
Mushy mushrooms and moldy bread,
A hairy, slimy, lettuce head.
Melted trash in a noonday sun,
Microwave tuna overdone;
Steamed spinach and expired stew,
That’s what you smell like through and through.
Black or white (or progressiveness)
but equally, a nebulous.
Conservative or liberalness
just not a mix of “middleness”,
or I shall make an emphasis
on that, your ledge of precipice.
Honoured guest, do you come to me to seek a life beyond the tree?
Sometimes I Feel Bad About: a poem about little mistakes.
Everything’s fine and the
day’s going great
until, from nearby
something flies in your face!
You scream in surprise
at the startling burst
I’m the one who steals your socks
and messes up your bed.
When you wash your white laundry
I add in something red!
I like to throw around ki
Please don’t call
or I may just cry.
I will not answer
but may certainly die.
I once met a gnome
who lived in a jar
and he told me a tale
of his travels “afar”.
“Oh my!” Proclaimed I
as I spotted my foe:
a big hairy spider
with at least fifty toes.
Why does the sun make me sneeze?
Why does spring air suffocate me?
Why do mosquitoes make me itchy?