By Samantha A. Tunis edited by Paul K. Tunis

Vikings stuck their coin loot to their chest and armpit hair with wax

It fell off when they fought

 

Your mom’s lame

My mom can take your mom

My mom was raised with the Indians

My mom rode dirt bikes in the desert barefooted

I’m telling the truth too

 

I’m sorry you made me hit you

 

I smell like diaper rash ointment

Everything I touch is greasy

And snap peas are the greatest thing ever invented

 

I think you give me too much credit

 

What if I had a lazy eye?

Would I cover it with a post-it eye patch

It’s self-stick if you cut it right

They come in all colors and you can draw on it with crayon

 

25 Apr This entry was published on April 25, 2009 at 3:15 am. It’s filed under Bric-a-brac, Poem and tagged Poem, Poetry, Post-it, Text. Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.