by Glen Martin Fitch
I lend this to you
And I want this back
As good as it is now
And soon. If not…
May your sticky fingers shake.
May your spongy liver quake.
May your greedy stomach churn.
May your grabby palms burn.
Pussy Pimples on your chin.
Purple Bruises on your shin.
Warts between your toes.
Blisters on your nose.
May your smelly butt hole itch
May your sneaky eyelids twitch
May your ears ring you cry
May your heart race till you die.
But first, before you go,
my former friend,
Promptly and unharmed
Give me my BOOK* back.
(*you may attach this poem inserting: fishing rod, chafing dish, cuff links, allen wrench, pinking shears, soccer ball, microphone, lawn mower, board game, beach towel etc...
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ABOUT THE POET ~
Glen Fitch is a 16th Century poet lost in the 21st Century. Born near Niagara Falls, educated in the Catskills, thirty years on the Monterey Bay he now lives in Palm Springs. Retail not academics has paid the bills. Someday he will finish Spenser's "The Fairie Queene."
Last updated August 23, 2011