Monday, April 8, 2013

Poem 8 Crazy

Poem 8. Crazy

In the driving me crazy
They hit the red zone
The pugs in red lipstick
With no explanation.

In pushing my buttons
They grind them down
The bunny bite is slow
More like a tease.

She's shaking her head
He's stealing grapes
By my feet
Like he's invisible.

She's running NASCAR
He's flipping me off
Driving me crazy
Keeping me sane.

No, not wild animals
But dueling tricksters
Fancy pants archetypes
Ying. Yang. Yo.

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