Poetry
All the While I’m Mad
A hot cross poem
You know, the angry kind
A bird with a beef
Dark eyebrows
Certain you’ve fucked up my day
So I peck
Peck
Peck
I could nest
I could rest
I could show you my best
Fuck that
I’m gonna peck
Peck
Peck
Ain’t I cute?
In my little blue suit?
A feather faced brute
You picked the wrong tree motherfucker
___
By Doodleslice 2024–06–22
Dear friends, I don’t even recognize myself sometimes.
I’m the guy who writes happy. Whimsy is the Doodleslice way, but lately my junk drawer keeps getting stuck sideways. I feel like I’m stuck in some endurance test of mild annoyances. It’s all small. All manageable. But the parade just keeps on marching.
Someone filled my junk drawer with a freight train. It’s wobbling and rumbling-grumbling, and in this June heat those steel wheels are screaming on the curves.
