We trap our fingers in clams and cats crow meow,
We keep secrets safe and tell them to lovers for haven,
Whiskey drips from taps,
As old men play cards for keeps,
Were counting those sheep that keep us from sleep.
Heaven dares and girls get split ends,
The bouncing kids keep on till the end,
Crush,
Crit,
Flit,
Rit,
Is thy the sacred eye that shadows on my high,
Thy the one who kills my bloated belly,
And holds dogs at home,
Laugh it up until it throws up,
Stomp it down till it forms a ground,
Walk it, talk it, and cork it,
I toast to a new beginning,
A far well to the boredom,
Here is to a new and ever lasting shin dig.
Dimitrios Cofinas
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/14th-october-2007/
