Recently, I had the dubious honor of being tagged by Directions. It so happens that it occurred right around Bad Poetry Day (plus or minus a day or two). I don’t believe in coincidences, and consider this an omen. Seriously, I do. No, really.
That being said, here goes:
I am thinking about the time that I had too much to drink,
And I said to the barman, “Why are the elephants pink?”
I want to go to Honolulu, I hope no one objects,
I wish that I could fly there without the damn security checks!
I hear that some Indonesians, used peppers to break out of jail,
I wonder if they’d send me that recipe, but using electronic mail.
I regret nothing I’ve ever done, but only what I never did,
I am what I am, no more, no less: Ego + superego + id.
(According to Freud, at any rate!)
I write bad poems, blog posts, and, oh yeah, my doctoral thesis,
To write without lifting a finger, I need to master psychokinesis.
I work to be diplomatic, and I hope I don’t offend,
Because I am not wriiting all the “tags”(?), and this is where I end.
So there!
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