I am the floater,
the plump-bellied,
hairy-chested, floater.
Stretch my wings,
with long drawn sigh,
stare up into the sky.
With short breast-stoke,
float on over,
wading as a plover.
A point of chin,
Engage chit-chat,
Pitty-pat, pitty-pat.
Will you eat my succulent meat?
Will you drink wine from my bota?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment