let’s call it benjamin
what rhymes with tumour
humour?
was it made of dreadlock rhymes
did it grow in sunny climes
did it know its privilege
to grow where words pay pilgrimage
was it really a pain in the neck
as it left the world a wreck
bereft begone oh final switch
a poetry page turns in a ditch
and out of a dark and dismal place
his sun breaks out across my face
yes he was but he still is see
that tooth gap smile for you and me
telling us the things we aught to know
and like us all it was his time to go
but listening now to these christmas carols
i fight the urge to howl and howl
and that’s just how he would have wanted it
No comments:
Post a Comment