Sunday evening silliness

OK, this has nothing to do with politics…. but… well, what the heck

An English Laxative

Today I eat what I once ate

But I don’t heat the things I hate

And while we meet before we mate

We do not greet before we grate

I fly the places where I flew

And then I sigh, and then I sue.

The things I buy do not go ‘boo’.

And then I cry to all my crew.

I sit the places where I sat

I still can fit – I’m not too fat

Then I flit off to my flat

Where I will slit one of my slats

I don’t know everything I knew

I go to where there is no goo

I flow the places where I flew

I did the things that now I do.

12 comments

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    • Edger on January 28, 2008 at 2:41 am
  1. I like this very much plf!

  2. mmm…poetry:

    Hung under branch so birds did flow

    in streams of currents on wind and snow

    lit up from fledgling wings aglow

    to hoot hoot hoot

    it all comes back

    the American Dream

    the real dream

    not what Washington has made of it

    you’d have to be trying to get lost

    you’d have to crave adventure

    and how many of us truly do

    I didn’t

    had enough when I was young

    it irked other men

    they knew I didn’t need to prove things

    that they still did

    though they never asked why

    bold stupid moves made when reflexes were clean

    and muscles taught carry their own wisdom

    lessons without teachers

    challenging ourselves

    a primate urge or even deeper

    in chromosome

    momma don’t take my kodachrome away

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