The first in a line of poems I'm writing with a Dr. Seuss feel to them. 100 GP for R&Rs! |
Hide and Seek Evan Hall Place. Gotta find a place. A place to hide. A place to place my rear. A place to shield myself from others eyes. But where? Outside? Yes! There’s so much space out here in this place. The tree’s a nice place to hide and it’s nice to lean up against its side. But now, why does it itch down in my pants? Son of a bitch, it’s covered in fire ants! Behind the garage, in one of the huts? Dear Lord, there’re rabid squirrels and they’re after my nuts! “Ready or not, here I come!” Crap time’s up with no place to run. Not here not there. Fuck! The bastard’s everywhere! Wait! A bush. I’ll throw my tush in the bush. Ahh, what a nice place to sit. Ohh dear God I just sat in shit! I’ll jump in the lake to mask the stench. Sweet Jesus there’s leeches with a blood lust to quench! Get up. Stumble down. Do my best not to drown. As I fall I crack my head on a rock. Blood and time flows away. Drip drop, tick tock. Wake up. It’s night out. All I hear is a shout. “Ha ha. Found you. Tag you’re it. What the Hell?! Why do you smell like shit?!” |