The poem arrives same as last week,
It's shirttail sticking out
Slurring of meter.
It knows form like the Devil knows Christmas,
Your free spirit simile
Has more holes in it than Sonny Coleone.
Ballads, sonnets and well metered stanza
Wake hungover in flea bag motel,
With empty beer cans dribbling prose.
Johnny Flip The Finger
Burps out and ending.
Checking his pants he finds 3 crumpled ones.