Letting his pome to Siri
Hopefully will make us 2.[period]
I got it matters what I say
Should probably change it anyway
Still out the 10 at home to Siri

I don't think contacts it should be
Around so cool be made out of me 
Still grumbling to choke 
So I don't waste too much rope
If anyone doesn't turn out too funny

After the person's coming
Bowman mentioned you running
Three more specific
It's more bulimic
Did everything go a plenty

Wonderwall things are
Fly high above All-Stars
Do you think that it's June,
That there Brazelton blue,
If they held and the press really hard?

So this is the phone from Siri
Not feeling quite weary
To Shay' pasta please process he,
Or just a foster for you' [apostrophe]? 
I guess we'll just have to see...

I'm writing this poem through Siri,
Hopefully it won't make us to teary,
I doubt it matters what I say,
she'll probably change it anyway,
Still I'll dictate my poem through Siri.

I don't think complex it should be,
Or else a fool will be made out of me
Still I'll grumble and I'll choke
So I don't raise too much hope
If in the end it doesn't turn out too funny.

After this verse it is coming
A poem that might send you running
Though to be more specific 
It's more of a limerick 
Than anything full of cunning.

I wonder where wild things are,
That fly high above all the stars?
Do you think that it's true,
That their face will turn blue,
If they held in their breath really hard?

So this is the poem from Siri
And now I'm feeling quite weary
For did I say 'pasta please',
Or just 'apostrophe'?
I guess we'll just have to ask Siri.

7/3/14