Truely Horrible Poetry
Truly Horrible Poetry
The pagan grass in the meadow crackled with a crunch
Stepped on by insects who called themselves bugs
The grass had long yellow teeth and braces from the sun
Flowers opened up their big fat mouths
And yelled at morning, “Gimme some pistils!”
“I want to shoot someone!”
Mary had a little leg of lamb and a gun
She got obese on lamb and shot her pistol
No more flowers for any one
They lay dead in the field for talking filthy
Birdies in the trees knitted their nests
They showered Mary with obscenities
She sneezed at them and then went home to rest
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