Sunday, December 29, 2013

I'm Not Going To Hurt Him

Mellowing out in sea salt green shirt,
mango colored shorts,
striped peach pink knee high socks,
and wooden clogs.
A day for an outing in a field outlined
by the pine tree forest.

Have I ever told you that when I
look up your nose, the majority
of the time it is clean.
I think that it is impossible.

However, without further ado and
blunderless galore,
the gallows exist here,
well they did at one point in time.
Perhaps 100 thousand years ago.
But that does not account for the
loss of the dodo bird, now does it?

I once traced the outline of your
hand as you slept.
It helped me confirm that you are
by all accounts larger in life then me.
Which is not impossible to be.

Hopping about the stale grass
almost crying out for rain.
The worms have crawled up
thinking it is time to play.
It is only tears, spit, or pee.
If you introduce the improper
species to a humble land,
trick you they will,
they'll chop off your hands.

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