Tuesday, August 9, 2011


When you're belly up like a cod
In a hole, 6 by 3 'neath the sod
when your last synapse
has finally collapsed
it won't matter if you worshiped a god.

The basics of this limerick came to me in that hazy fog of half-sleep. I'm not sure my brain and I get along anymore.

No comments:

Post a Comment