Ghetto bricks poised on sticks,
Nearing birds with feathers slick,
Modern syndrome naming nerds,
Slicing and dicing until they burn,
Longitude falls sideways all too soon,
Oh chief hairdresser, grant me a boon,
Do my eyes deceive me not,
Dancing here on the teapot,
A biscuit or two crumbled and new,
Creamy sandwich with jam in too,
Nestled in inoculants
Fists of silty bed,
Bumblebee predicament,
Attracted to your head,
So sit and read upsidedown papers,
Goggle at the dawning noon,
Upon the islets of langerhans,
Built from crisps and jelly flan,
Picnic with the spiderweb,
Sing-a-long at daffodils,
Moan about the sunshine,
And never will you get ill.
Rowan Blair Colver