Watermelon Jam
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I’m riding on Victoria
like Ferdinand Magellan;
I’ve got this strange conception
that Carnegie’s my melon.
I’m tickling the ivory;
I’m keying like a felon.
Sure, I’m a tad inflated,
but I ain’t no Janet Yellen.
I wasn’t trained classically;
not buying what they’re selling.
But I can blow the doors right off,
get lit like Mount St. Helen.
And if the crowd won’t get real loud,
no worries; I’ll be gelling.
I’ll spit some seed to pick up speed
and crank and grind and peel some rind
on my trusty watermelon.
————-
for the A Watermelon Fantasy Ride Poetry Contest
sponsored by Mystic Rose Rose
written on 06/28/2022
Copyright © Jeff Kyser | Year Posted 2022
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