A SILENCED SOULFUL SPIT
Poet:
Oladoyin Micheal
a.k.a Prof.
Mike Breeze
Interjections I for days watch:
Trekking, hopping,
jumping
Through the throng of tongues,
All blessed with immoral of oral;
Are you mad? You are mad!
Those are my blissful woes
As I cart my cart to my field
Hoping a full barn harvest.
Interjections I for days make,
With my wheels, against countless
wheels,
All on the product of bugs,
Products neatly with holes designed.
With train of mini-trains I wrestle,
A host of other wrestling wrestlers;
Under the smiling sun I soothe the
son of man
Making hay, for hay to make me.
Interjections I pray to make:
With my wheels, against countless
wheels,
On the product of butterflies;
Product adorned with fragrance of
roses.
I yearn for butterflies not bugs
I hope to see peeling hikes;
Hikes gummed inveterate to my
earning,
I pray for butterflies not bugs
Who dies sucking and reincarnate to
suck more.
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