Poetry in low definition,
Low end too of the AM band,
No where close are we here to nuclear fission,
Better are we in the ocean, fishin’…
Livin’ life high off the weed,
Livin’ are we in the low rent district,
Trailer trash,
Short on cash,
Plenty though we have of sour mash…
Disability through the government,
At least we pay our rent,
Sorry to sound as herein I do lament,
Actually I do not as I give this poem my full consent…
Not just from, are we, the worlds armpit,
The scrotum instead a smell it does emit,
I try to show here as such my wit,
Keeping me free is poetry,
Otherwise they would of me, commit…
© ed ~ 2/22/06
Share
Print
Save
Follow
But please tell me you didn't make poor Rufuz take that picture, too.
PS Lots of grey hairs there, fella - you be gettin mighty old.
eT
Oh you are a lost case my dear......the pic give me the impression it was quit cold when it was takin...wrinkles like wet soil in the hot sun....a wooly-cracker!!
Love Tinka