Poetry is bad for your brain.
Soap bubbles will dance to the rhythm
while you wash the dishes.
You will mourn a love before it begins.
You will see the world destroying itself,
and adore it as shrapnel
pierces your heart.
Your mind will grow flowers
that will shield you from the rain.
Boy scouts won’t knock on your door
to sell you something you shouldn’t eat.
The neighbor’s dog
won’t poop on your lawn.
Buy my latest poetry book,
and I will show you how
to change your world.
inspired by Doug Anderson’s “Dear Children:”
Comments