Empty Soup Cans
Shark art, the romance of nothingness Homeless vagabond’s discuss the emptiness of soup cans A frenzied race of little Benny hills playing, king of the mole hill Three bums decide, to see who is the most eloquent, at saying nothing at all. Like, what would Andy Warhol and Woody Allen’s children look like. That’s not funny at all but Tom waits his turn, peeping over the wall like Kilroy, if he existed. Laying on his side looking, at the mole hill Yep, little ants are trying to climb a mountain, as a passerby steps on it and the candy mountain police officer, wipes the stuff of His nightstick, saying all the world is a stage. A little boy would rather eat shoe leather, than turn that page. Laughter erupts from the soup can, when raising the leg is abrupt Echoes of humor, as the puppy kicks the can, placing cheese, on an already disturbing content. Chum, the can was indeed empty. We got are fill. The Lord knows you are homeless, wait for Him.
Copyright © John Beam | Year Posted 2017
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment