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Tuesday, May 31, 2011

#151 Is Grumped In the Mud

I’m mister obvious
The obvious rhyme
At the obvious time
I bugger it to the floor
Like a ten dollar whore
I am the hack
That is me

But you can’t complain
You’re the one who tuned in
For this schlock
This drivel
This insane dirt-on-my-face
Mockery of art

So I give you this:

Walking the square
Marked by the Sears fence
Of the world
Designated as mine
I find a multitude
Of mostly mud and sand
To bury myself in
With a cartoonish straw sticking up
It’s the best I can muster
These days it seems
It helps me think
Surrounded by earth
The worms and bugs
Massaging my girth
It tickles
And inspires my dreams
Mostly dreams of being buried alive though
So it’s not that great
But that’s where I’ll be
If you can’t find me
On that day that I invited you over
Just start poking the ground
Eventually you’ll find me
And be a pal,
Don’t use a sharp stick

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