Potato chips are quite the crisp,
The tentacle opens the bag.
The driveway cat, oh Mr. Bagel
Lives his life in drag.
Can we put a date on it?
No, not even a stamp.
The oily glasses will tell you
That’s why the lady’s a tramp.
To pop the cork on luck,
Could be popping the bottle of poison.
Maybe more crisps than oyster crackers,
Hails the channel that the boy’s on.
Can you write upon the graph paper
To tear away its grid?
Don’t use that keystone rewards card,
Or you’ve already lost that bid.
Don’t erase your library slip,
If it sits upon the charter.
The old cellphone already died,
To save us the pain of barter.
Who will carry the sun peaking flag?
Or deal out each hand of magic?
To get this far without a context,
Would be a course that’s tragic.
Tempting thee to toss this page,
Back to the wailing seas,
Is to understand this dreadful poem
And not possess a disease!
This poem was inspired by the random things sitting on my desk. Please tell me in the comments if you find any deeper meanings in this poem! Also, keep sharing the Bithiyan!
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