‘cause god never answered anyway. asked if there were any way anyway they could make frogs extinct. i need to tell them, you see,
it’s very urgent.
my best friend has tadpoles swimming in her chest. they make her sad and mad and she’s already kicked open three windows, trying to freeze them dead.
she heard frogs can’t survive through a harsh winter (some pesky amphibian thing) and though she prefers the warmth of a sunshine week, she lays atop ice. mountains and mountains of snow. just to try and try and try.
so i called the science hotline ‘cause last night god went and tied pink ribbons around her throat, prying her open to drop tiny tadpoles inside while she slept.
their voicemail, full, told me to try again later.
so i kicked in the fourth window for her, watched it shatter to little pink pieces, little future-tadpoles that are just future-frogs that are just future-f uckers.
Once upon a time Things were funny as Hell, Life was worth living And everyone had a place in this magical story Of witches and Princes, princesess and ghosts, Kings and queens and everybody else.
Soul users Served some frog legs, Delicacy today, The witch is feeding her owls, Keeping safe a few. She's watching from her broom-flight For souls she needs to use? If they're Alright or not She cares not.not _ not caring for it a lot More than you thought.
Oh, well, a lie or two Won't harm anyone! Truth:... She speaks with a heart of true!
The witch selects her targets, What she needs is what she seeks, What she wants is what she cares for.
I want only my peace, Even if louder than you May think! But what to do? What to do? May God help you too!
I dream that the frogs in my backyard have wings and they fly up to the trees in the dewy light of dawn to meet their maker and kiss under the canopied shade of listless leaves grazing their backs and reminding them of simpler times down from the watery swamp they came from their webbed feet leave prints on the bark muddy and cumbersome but innocent in their doings a flash flood of lightning awakens me i'm laying in damp earth again time to go back inside
written in a feverish haste and quickly thought out but I had to get it out of my head before i forgot it
Long ago, in a youth now gone, I spent hours at a pond, A clay base , sun adorning, Tadpoles swimming, half forming, I spied with magnifying glass, Frogs finally hopped at last, Now, no frogs, cause no rain, Is is all because of climate change? So I ponder on such ponds, Where have all the tadpoles gone? That was our ecological health, How can we restore our planet's wealth?