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This poem tastes like a pretzel
| Open Poetry #1 |
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This poem tastes like a pretzel |
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Poetwheel Member
since 1999-07-07
Posts 208Canada |
...and then I hit my chin upon the floor. My teeth went through my lips and scraped the ground. I noticed failed eyetooth and incisor. The clacking in my head it did resound. On that fateful day... The small tin goose upon the mat was lain. A souvenier from on the day I wed. I feel it's naught but luck I wasn't slain, For that foul bird was impaled to my head. That woeful day.. 'Tis fortunate indeed I did not drown. I staggered and let out a pain-filled whoop. Fumbling for grip as I again went down, the handle that I grabbed brought boiling soup. Ohhh, that day.. I bellowed out "POOR ME" and felt despair, As I sat scalded with my mouth all loose. When I flopped back I should have had a care, with pain I found out whence that bloody goose. I hate that goose... And now my living room is filled with gore. The bloody mess would really quite astound. And I am but a toothless troubador, whose grim smile will now never more be found.... On that difficult day when I saw Rutger Hauer's penis. ------------------ Poetic Wheelbarrow http://www.stormloader.com/poetwheel/den.html ICQ: 44370408 |
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| © Copyright 1999 Poetwheel - All Rights Reserved | |||
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WhtDove Member Rara Avis
since 1999-07-22
Posts 9245Illinois |
lol...sounds like a heck of a bad day! Quite the unexpected ending! |
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