Drip, drip, drip,
one little drip can’t think,
can’t check my oil.
Bop-ba-da-dop, bop-ba-da-dop.
Too much for plastic wrap, too much
to throw away.
Somewhere
in the Netherlands
and cries “Help me! I can not drink this drip, drip,
black, rum, coke and bloodshot
button up tie.” In the after life
Geronimo walks
with both eyes closed. Through pip-pap-tink-
tink-tink-pap graves. God bless
this Holy soil,
this rain.
No comments:
Post a Comment