A gift not freely given
Is no gift at all, but trade.
Last night I dreamed the moon exploded
And filled our eyes with cold gray dust
(Ahh, high school angst channeled into sub-par poetry!)
Spaceships in Yntema’s lab attacked corn from drums.
From a poem I “wrote” by cutting words out of the local paper, putting them in a paper bag, retrieving them at random, and glueing them on a notebook page. The poem was called “Ranch Indeed.”
Also:
New Mexico has mountains high!
Don’t fall off 'cause you might die.
and
We’ve got scorpions crawlin’ and rattlesnakes hissin’.
Towns so small if you blink you might miss 'em!
From a poem on the wonders and glories of New Mexico.
They’d stand there, playing Shish-ka-bob,
Making Maybelle squeal,
He’s say, “you lay, Charolais?”
She’d get full of veal.
A penguin is a panda bear fish.
At least you didn’t include the “bone-in rump roast” line…