Today, June first, are you thinking about c/c on this "Charon Doesn't Take America Express" pome/poem?
White-silvery-bellied minnows
flashed red, blue, green tails
in groups atop ripples,
flipping, corkscrewing,
gymning Olympic moves....
But Charon wasn't amused.
"34,795 years (give or take
an Etruscan, or 14 thousand), 4 months,
2 weeks, 11 days, 23 hours, and
here....I....have....sat, ferried,
toothed coins, seen shadows,
am a shadow. Big whoop.
And what respect do I get?
And what the Hades kind
of fish live in this river, anyway?
Raft of rotting logs....named a 'ferry'.
Half naked--got nothing to show.
Broken teeth from biting coins.
Oh Crack! My grateful heart!
No one thinks I exist.
I am a myth. Legend. A 'bump'
in the night. Yet, I attend the 'greats'.
Not so 'greats'. They all stink.
But do I have air freshener?
What 'disaster area'?....OH NO!
FEMA passed through 6 years ago.
Hades don't want em."
Make sure you wash those coins in anti bacterial soap before biting anymore. You never know where they've been (eye sockets of dead warriors, etc).
You can turn a phrase better than Dale Earnhardt, Jr. jockeying for position.
Where all your enjoyable, original ideas erupt from, only the silver bellied minnows with rainbow tails
know. Your pomes (sic) are always a pleasure. Keep the tadpoles coming and don't let the undergrowth block access to the creek bank.
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