Month: June 2016

That thing

There is a pretty songbird,
living on our street.
He wakes up every morning
and says ‘Tweet, tweet!’.

I know some day he’ll fly away,
and I will feel so strange.
Then I’ll write a soulful poem
about that thing called change.


 

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Goo

I love those gooey poems
that talk about the soul,
and mention time and memory
lying anguished in a bowl.

Best of all are poems
about love’s reviving cup,
and how it saves aforesaid soul
— those ones really crack me up.


 

Smooth

The floor was strewn with fuzzballs,
and mullypuffs filled the cella,
the day my sweetie shaved her legs
for her role in Pulcinella.


 

Stalker

I must tell my pattawalla
to bar the windows close:
there’s a fiend that stalks the land tonight,
and I’m never fond of those.

I think his name is Jimmy
or it could be Harry Black.
Whatever the case, he has a face
like the road to Hellenback.


 

Handy

The Earl of Tonypandy
made a fortune from nut candy,
and he then became a dandy
in the stews of Paris, France,
where the Earl of Tonypandy
could indulge his taste for brandy
and outrageous forms
of fruit and nut romance.