"twy" poems
All my pwoblems,
who knows, maybe evwybody’s pwoblems
is due to da fact, due to da awful twuth
dat I am SPIDERMAN.
I know, I know. All da dumb jokes:
No flies on you, ha ha,
and da ones about what do I do wit all
doze extwa legs in bed. Well, dat’s funny yeah.
But you twy being
SPIDERMAN for a month or two. Go ahead.
You get doze cwazy calls fwom da
Gubbener askin you to twap some booglar who’s
only twying to wip off color T.V. sets.
Now, what do I cawre about T.V. sets?
But I pull on da suit, da stinkin suit,
wit da sucker cups on da fingers,
and get my wopes and wittle bundle of
equipment and den I go flying like cwazy
acwoss da town fwom woof top to woof top.
Till der he is. Some poor dumb color T.V. slob
and I fall on him and we westle a widdle
until I get him all woped. So big deal.
You tink when you SPIDERMAN
der’s sometin big going to happen to you.
Well, I tell you what. It don’t happen dat way.
Nuttin happens. Gubbener calls, I go.
Bwing him to powice, Gubbener calls again,
like dat over and over.
I tink I twy sometin diffunt. I tink I twy
sometin excitin like wacing cawrs. Sometin to make
my heart beat at a difwent wate.
But den you just can’t quit being sometin like
SPIDERMAN.
You SPIDERMAN for life. Fowever. I can’t even
buin my suit. It won’t buin. It’s fwame wesistent.
So maybe dat’s youwr pwoblem too, who knows.
Maybe dat’s da whole pwoblem wif evwytin.
Nobody can buin der suits, dey all fwame wesistent.
Who knows?
--JIM HALL
Dec 6, 2018
Dec 6, 2018 at 1:57 PM UTC
Sarah, Charlotte, and Little Pete
Wander down the tree-lined street
Toward Listwood playground's swings
Charlotte hums and Sarah sings
Peter talks without a breath
Bores his listeners half to death
For they don't know his special speech
"I weawwy weawwy twy to weach"
"Weach fow da staws, it's hawd as heww
To say the aw sound owa fowm an ew" +
R's and L's are not his forte
But that won't stop him from trying to say
Whatever is flitting through his mind
And my boy Pete is oh so kind
My children make me proud as hell
And every day my love will swell
Pushing swings beneath the stars
Then hanging from the monkey bars
Then up the pole and down the slide
Then home with these three by my side
Their Daddy loves them so much more
Than anything he's loved before
Except, perhaps, for their mother
I love these four more than any other
Aug 24, 2016
Aug 24, 2016 at 10:24 PM UTC