Farmer John is up
It's early in the morning
A cup of Joe
Is what he needs to go

Barbershop, clean cut
The sun is bright and pearly
Some shaving cream
Will put you in a dream

A cup of warm milk
On winter's eve
Is all you need

Warm bed,
Its snug,
It's warm, it's wet, you peed

"How embarrassing!"
The sheets rolled up and dripping down the stairs

Bad parenting?
I don't think mom or dad will really care.

To deliver a smile
Is to wrap it nicely
In some soft tissue
Of pale blue
Or, softest hue
Of yellow.

Next, place it in a box,
Cozy,
Small,
Four walls
Fitting To keep it safe.
Four walls fitting to hug it snug.

Then,
mail it to me
or whoever may be
in your mind, cherie.
No qualms because we all need a smile
one that glimmers like jewels in the sunlight.

One that’s as wide,
Stretching as far
as the eyes,
One that sets flutters
all about,
a flap flap flap in the heart.


To deliver such a smile,
Ooh,
I can’t even tell you is a
pure,
thrilling
delight.

It helps me feel better about myself by putting my emotions into terms that everyone will understand, for example:

My life is like a joke with no punchline.
Maybe more like I’m telling the joke, and I forgot the punchline,
so now we’re both sitting here awkwardly trying not to feel too bad for me.
It probably wasn’t even that funny anyway.

My life is like a poorly written sitcom that only lasted for a season because no one could emotionally connect with the main character.
Almost like there was no budget—
And it’s just me, sitting in front of a camera screaming.

My life is like going to get a steak and cheese, hold the mushrooms, and not only are there mushrooms, but they’re cooked into the meat so you can’t even take them out.
Alright, maybe my life isn’t that bad.

I don’t know how to say that I can’t get up in the morning.
That I am Jesus, my demons are his disciples, and this bed my cross— I am nailed to it.
Instead I tell you that everyday feels like a Monday, even the weekends.

I’m not great at anything, but if I was to pick my biggest accomplishment,
it would be that no one knows when I’m joking anymore.
I just hope that when it’s my time to go, i’ll be forgiven for making it so hard to know me.

Who, what where
why?
Cat, sat, mat.
Why
Unknown.