Poem which risks disappearance...
(by being written directly into a blogger field rather than writeen in word.doc and then copied into blogger... because sometimes you just need to right a poem. Right now. Write! Now!)
There are some things
in the world. Not about
it, or your head all cloudy.
There are some things
you just can't just slap
an old farmhouse onto.
Some things soup won't
wash away. Or a highway.
Some things are just there.
This is why I invented bed
and tomorrow and beer
battered onion rings.
Everything counts
sheep.Everything fights
a battle and loses.
You have to give up
at least once each day
to be a person.
If you don't close your
book you won't ever
brush your teeth.
There are some things
in the world. Not about
it, or your head all cloudy.
There are some things
you just can't just slap
an old farmhouse onto.
Some things soup won't
wash away. Or a highway.
Some things are just there.
This is why I invented bed
and tomorrow and beer
battered onion rings.
Everything counts
sheep.Everything fights
a battle and loses.
You have to give up
at least once each day
to be a person.
If you don't close your
book you won't ever
brush your teeth.
2 Comments:
Well I certainly hope you copied and pasted it to your word files after you posted it for it's far too good to loose. Some poems are good enough to keep.
Oh, I don't know, I think you can slap an old farmhouse onto anything.
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