Funny Bunny Fridays
So is it that you are afraid
I might use your comments section
like the wall
of a public restroom stall?
Hell...y'all should be so lucky.
Some of the best wit
I ever saw
appeared in that little cubicle
where minions sat
and shat
and posted their witticisms
in that minimalist style
so reminiscent of Hemingway
or Raymond Carver
for all succeeding thinkers
and stinkers
to ponder and reflect upon--
next to the phone number
of some girl
who would show you a good time.
I never called
though I was tempted.
And who could ever forget
that timeless classic:
Here I sit
all broken hearted
ran sixteen blocks
and only farted
Those anonymous writers
were carrying forward the legacy
of the prehistoric cave artists--
or less romantic perhaps
they were the forerunners of the taggers.
It was the closest thing to the internet we had--
especially when the crapper
was located inside
an international airport terminal.
So no
I'm not concerned
about offending the laity.
I prefer spontaneity.
So come one
come all
and scribble something
on my wall.
It's only words
(as the Bee Gees once said)
after all.
