Thursday, February 11, 2010

The Air I Breathe

Maybe I’m wrong and it’s my solitude
That I need most of all.
It has long been the air I breathe
And it might not gladly suffer a sea change.

So, should lady luck in a watery manger
Slip into a mermaid suit with an aqualung
And manage to please me with her underwater dance
In spite of all the danger,

There is no telling
How much or little influence
Might come to fruition between us
And spoil the front of my pants!

rcs.

Current draft: 2/11/2010
Created on 2/6/2010 7:36 PM

This esoteric conceit clumsily conceived by Ron Southern at 11:26 AM
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1 comment:

Abandon hope, all ye who enter here! (At least put on your socks and pants.)

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