BUD
Little Red is this bud’s name. He was scheduled to be called Clarence. But that was before he wilded to flame, and his elders practiced forbearance.
Little Red is this bud’s name. He was scheduled to be called Clarence. But that was before he wilded to flame, and his elders practiced forbearance.
Speaking of Susan B. Anthony: Susan B Anthony Susan be slick Susan jumped over the candlestick Her dress caught fire She ran to the lake She plunged right in and later ate cake
You dasn’t dare pick the pink etheria Its enveloping aura can cause hysteria So be off as fast as your legs can carry ya Or we’ll be stuck with the task of having to bury ya
If melted spoons were thistles we wouldn’t need nuclear missiles
I left the Glade of Peace and wandered the Woods of Desire. I lost my pocket comb and my favorite piece of wire. A tear leapt from my eye and ran off laughing madly. I fell into the bog, thus ending my day sadly.
Is it green or is it red? Or is it playing with my head? Whether it is red or green I can’t decide. What can it mean? I’m looking at it from my bed. And yet what is it? Green or red? Green or red? Red or green? I’ll banish thought. Away! Sweep clean! red […]
Steppenwolf’s Harmonica a poem filtered through 14 laminated grains * Sometimes I jump up and down shouting, “Rice!” It frightens the birds and scatters the mice. Why do I do this? I know it’s not nice. Oh well, time to roll about screaming, “Think twice!”
My name is Edward Lill. I live on a window sill. When you pass me by don’t attract my eye. I’ll burst into tears, I will.