Sounds an interesting name for a poem as always so weird,
This poem it is written by me and eventually geared,
For you the reader, the commenter and reviewer, so well cleared,
Of all there is to know, having written of same, you all are most revered…
Have I been unctuous as of yet?
Or do I need to compliment and flatter you more, I don’t want to have to regret,
You are all so beautiful, so compassionate and some are even sore,
In the nostril department, yes I speak of Karla, getting hit when she is bored,
Sorry that this poem is exactly what I shouldn’t write,
No humor, no fun, no left or right,
Can’t tell my one from the other, now you know I must be high,
I try very much to never, like George with wooden teeth, tell a lie…
Does this poem make any sense to you all?
Did I make my point, whatever it was I tried to tell, or was it just a call?
Either way, I just had to keep my hand in, write something, even though,
I have no idea what I write, but what else is new, I am forever and a day,
Looking for something new or old, just have to keep writing, just have to have something to say…
© ed – 5/10/04