Baby skunk, baby duck
What’s this joke? I cannot hear.
This man at the bar thinks the identity punch
Is a treasure in a floorboard
This song, Everclear?
What’s this about being little?
Yelling about being small in a big world
Like he hasn’t been old for some time
Bartholomew’s pub is dead?
But the artists need a place
To write all their silly poems
For their good thoughts to grow on
Another empty Wednesday!
No instruments to play
Never have I hoped for a faster pace
Too many useless words to carry
No wild side for my nights
I don’t know where they’re hiding
The ocean might be the only place
To see a mystery in this pretty town
Nothing to put in the evening
But a book or netflixxxxxx
Somehow these occupations revulse
All I can think to do is draw silly cartoons.
By Sarah C Louise
Sarah C Louise 