My bathroom has no bath
So in the toilet I must splash
Until I’m sudsed and brushed
And quite cleanly flushed.

Atop the mountains tall and strange,
Abottom seas of change,
There are beasts of strangest strains
Who’d die upon the plains.
Beasts with breath of burning wind,
Brutes of stony heart and skin,
Bucks who trample on the stars,
Boars sleeping on Hades’ bars,
Behemoths who must send all fleeing –
Beings barbarous but being.

Beasts of which we’re all afraid
Who’d die on Normal’s blade.

I’ll miss them if they ever go
And leave us safe but all alone.

Illustration by DALL-E in the style of William Blake.

Qime stuck his fingers in a stump
And then he left them there
So he’d always feel a clump
Of wood and moss in boggy air.

He wished to always breathe the breeze
From his favorite mountain top,
He left a lung among the trees
Where piney winds spin and pop.

His toes dig into shelly sands,
His ears hear haunting howls,
Knees kneel in the holy lands,
Heart’s gone soaring with the owls.

One eye’s on the sunset feast,
Another, the sunrise hunts.
He has himself released
And is here and there at once.

Qime gave himself away in full
But still pours past the brim,
While he wove him into all
The world wove into him.

Some days I quit
And there I sit
Until the next day comes.
To my surprise
All next days rise
With me among the crumbs
Of something lost
I’m glad to toss
Out with the other dreck
As some day soon
Me and the moon
Will soar upon my wrecks.

I’m miles away
From miles away
And happier this way.

Trilly ate a frog
And she ate another,
Then started gulping pollywogs
Straight from their marshy mother.
She wandered with a belly full
Of ri-bi-bits and croaks
That ricocheted around her skull,
Dirge of her eaten folks.
Trill couldn’t help but hum along,
Then had to skip a bit,
Then joined in the throaty song
And gladly went with it.
Trilly hopped the swamp,
Happily home in the bog,
Till something larger chomped
And became a bigger frog.

What poem do you want today?
Let’s pray with the pen.
“Most High,” I’ll say,
Then you come in,

“How ’bout a tale of terrible good
That turned to wonderful bad?
The lawless romance of red and blue
And the royal color their love grew?
Storms pouring souls?
A boy living with trolls?
A hopeful ghost in chains!
The girl with sun in her veins!
Polar bars giving rides
With tygers as our guides
To this riddle filled riot!”

It sounds like you should write it.

So I say start in the middle
Cause starting at the start
Is often more than a little
Hard to do without a heart
To beat and build upon.
The dawn’s already gone,
We’re off and running to
Something having grown
And no matter what you do
The end comes on its own.

I’m running out of time!
All these dreams I’ve yet to live!
I’ve done barely any crime
And have more guff to give!

I haven’t buried any treasure,
Never stole the gold to hide!
How can I take my measure
When I’ve barely even tried!

I don’t know a single elf or gnome!
I’ve yet to loot a zoo!
I haven’t got to haunt a home!
(Though suppose I may get to.)

I never overthrew a king
Or learned to darn my socks.
I regret so many things!
Like why’d I learn to read the clock?

Oh, it’s only noon?
And then the clock keeps rolling?
Though I’ve avoided doom,
I fear where midnight’s going.

You won’t take me alive!
I’ve nailed the door shut,
Booby trapped it with knives,
You don’t want to get cut,
I don’t want to clean up
So just stay back!
This thing’s gonna erupt!
These skunks will attack!
Every trap you can think of
Is ready to go!
From puppies to puppy love,
It’s ready to blow!
I’ve bolted beams across the walls
That dinos couldn’t crack.
This is a cage that calls,
“Get lost or get whacked!”
You couldn’t enter as air!
I’m safe, without doubt.
“Hello? Anybody there?”
Now, how do I get out?