What? More reruns?
Here is a little poem I wrote, way back in the 70s…
Just a little nugget from the drawers of mystery…
It requires no explanation, and I didn’t bother to put in any pictures…
——————————————————————————————
…Who’s Crazy?…
Well the sun was shining clear and bright,
In the middle of the cold, dark night,
As a song bird whistled loud and clear,
A song that none of us could hear…
“I see,” said the blind, old codger,
Talking to his deaf brother Roger,
I hate him so ’cause he’s my best friend,
This could be the start of a very good end…
Everything I say must be true,
‘Cause I only lie when I’m talking to you,
You say it’s clear why you’re confused,
By a brand-new antique that’s never been used…
Well the lady bought a whale that wasn’t for sale,
But the whale couldn’t swim ’cause it couldn’t tell a…
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I’m so glad you posted this oldy — I see hints of your current style in your past writing.
I hardly ever change… or grow up… or improve… Thank you.