“Yeah, but can you do sad? ” she scoffed.
Sh*t, sure I can
I can do sad
I can do maudlin
Maudlin till the cows come home
The mutilated moo cows
Ripped by the belly by
Some future psycho juvenile
Intent on fermenting and reaping the brew
Of some f*cked up f*ckin conspiracy theory
He found in a puzzle box.
Jig-saw pig saw
Slashing an’ a slicing
Humping the bee-hive
By the vinegar pool
F*ckin A I say I do sad.
“No” she said
“but you Can do mad.”
Reece Kaye
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/conflicting-perceptions/
