“Altered Eggo…”

I don’t seem to have one,

Unless it’s the self I talk to when speaking to myself,

Or maybe it is Rufuz; no he is his own entity,

No maybe I have to find that of my own…

Could it be my “id”, the one I speak of so humorously?

Or should I just call mine, Al?

As altered it truly is, so let go my eggo, so studiously do I herein study,

Maybe that of an understudy would be more appropriate,

One that can understand and not under appreciate my altered ego, sometimes so smutty…

So if you know of a name for that of my altered ego, besides that of a certain “DW”,

Inside joke between friends therein, so don’t try to figure it out,

I really would appreciate the input especially if you do in fact “put out”…

As is most of my poetry, this is a bit altered or fractured or twisted or just plain bent,

Hope you don’t mind, as it is all I can come up with or otherwise I would be just silent,

Bet you all would love to see that, Ed being silent, no more poetry, no more words,

Hard to believe that that could occur, but never fear, will never happen,

I am overflowing with diarrhea of the writer’s organ, in its usage so absurd…

                   © ed – 4/4/04