The Bushy Creek Spring Makers Market is the call
Poetry and bee motels selling on our stall
busking in daylight
fireside songs at night
Camped out for two days we're gonna have a ball
Call them bee motels cause we don't drink alcohol
different native bees are sealing up a hole
young ones will hatch out
adults will buzz about
Collect pollen and nectar in nature that's their role
Consumed by her bushy beauty
lost in her fantasies
little girl like queen of black ants
carries within her
aura of hidden power
But she cannot utilize it
to save the world
that chants after her
“Queen, queen” of no queens,
Queen of the terrible
bushy but beautiful
That bushy tail of yours, Mr. Squirrel
it's kind of cute, the way it curls
High on a wire, it swings back and forth
either east and west, or south and north
On a tall tree's nut-hunting route
you use it like a parachute
And I've seen your tail shake and shiver
when you spot a 'babe' who makes you quiver
I'm not quite sure what all this means
but it serves you well in woods and ravines
Good morning my wild and bushy tailed cat
Sometimes I wonder where you're at
You strut the streets so silently
Seeking where your prey might be
You shine above all other cats
Cause neither they know where you're at
You live your life just like a king
An image so proud to us you bring
Wow, you have such energy
You move around so gracefully
Seems to me you have no fear
My little friend, you are so dear
this box in a bushy pathway
represents the direction of my
life and the end of my world as
i watch the grass grow and the
trees sway only to find myself
even more lost that i ever was
originally
in every daydream i am in a time
machine rubbing a magic lamp
anticipating the surefire wishes
that i know in my heart will, without
doubt, come true
that stump with the bird manure
collection aids in my relaxation as
i write poems in my mind that will
not see the light of day neither on
computer nor on paper
intentionally ignoring ideal ideas
idiotically, i become blind to the
potential of the art's buried treasures
and hidden discoveries
i know somebody will unknowingly beat me
to the punch today and spike it with the
exclamation of his or her celebration
i guess i am a lazy loser full of awfully absurd
glorification
i will never show my face again due to the great
damage of my self demoralization
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