OUTSIDE THE BOX
The only thing making senseSoles of worn shoes, in full overdue rent
Bishop ants work their sugar hill
Busy bees ponder road side foliage
Sir Cocky Clock steals twelve of twenty four
Roll over seconds hidden galore
Triple rinse swims Mr. Sponge
Careful boy not to drown
From needy knees upward down
Chasing morning dew making rounds
Oh cute clownish, clowing clowns
Love it when ya yell that sound
Howls of a hungry pure breed
Barking city squirrels frolic
Cats meow like pure hell
At the sight of two percent
Copyright, Nathaniel London 2013
All rights reserved by author 2013
Poetry by France England
Read 685 times
Written on 2013-01-24 at 22:25
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