"lashquisha" poems
See, once many moons ago,
by a single solit'ry sun,
I met a cat nominated Liam,
and above him was his thumb,
Twas a good thumb,
twas the best thumb,
unspun the skin cells were silkest
and yet, when reassembled,
not that ilk. It's (Whaaaaaat?)
She was a tough and callous blemish
that he'd relish, totally cherish
'till he'd perish, (not embellished
tales true, but tails lie)
and Lasquisha for all her balance
and her posture
all her talents
Gideon knot who'll accost ya, with her roster's
Fox'd-ya-got-cha talons
(oooooooooooooooooooo)
This Liam was a good old cat
a tabby cat, not big and black,
but orange, mangy, super slack
deranged, estranged and caged in slack
with slipper feet, and coddled back,
he sat in chair that lazy sack
and when the doorbell called his track
he shirked the effort needed, whack!
Lashquisha, see, she was another
met our cat before this brother
Set her sights on not a smother
but, acknowledged rites of other.
So lashquisha with her sight so true
and thumb eluding tyrants skew
so set about to be anew
not thumb or (k)not, nor nails too,
and that was where I'd met these two
well first the cat and then the shoe
for sock was never needed, who
would hide themselves from their own view?
Lashquisha when I met that thumb
surprised not I by glove of fun
and *** and ***** layered un-
derneath the figure Liam strum.
See Liam knew his thumb so well
he knew the thumb twas not a shell
that caged the angry men that fell
to clipping when their partners tell.
For thumb a partner never is
unless like me you've ****** the quiz
and ended up a pointless shiv
in side of angry hornets nest.
And rest assured the thumbs annointed
given by their partners pointed
comments feeling slightly daunted
by need to act their best.
Attest they do the thumbs that chew
And unrest is left by plough and brew
But then again a thumb are you?
And me, and we, and I?
So tru....
Jan 11, 2018
Jan 11, 2018 at 7:33 AM UTC