Took Sweetpea for a walk. Came home, drank a beer and wrote a sloppy poem about how gross spring is. There ya go.
Slugs sewn though wet grass
like thick strands of satin ribbon
flapping around in my flip flops
thwap thwap thwap
regretful squishing on my toes
June bugs buzz, fat and hard as rubies
THK THK, they collide
put my hood up, hide my hair
scarab bastards wont get in there
Along the highway
Gravel crunching under foot
like dentures on hard candy
Jeepers chirping car alarm love songs
(they’re fucking in the ditches…)
Dog jumps at trucks barreling by
Hey! Be nice! Stay Down!
Poop bag swings wildly in hand
Pendulum of doom
Lonely loon serenading nobody
A sad, panicked howl over the lake
Google “Loon Calls” and hold out my phone
You’re not alone!
-Definitely not fucking Wordsworth