A poem by Kevin Somers.
By Kevin Somers
Sep. 9, 2007
I wonder what to write about
And squeeze my spongy brain
'Til ideas start leaking out
And it all starts up again
I could write about love
But it's done close to death
Like a holey, old glove
Or a hooker on meth
I could write about rains
That fall from the sky
And streak across panes
And make windows cry
I could write about bliss
If I knew where to look
It's beyond an abyss
If I'm not mistook
I could write about booze
I could write about drugs
I could write about ooze
I could write about thugs
I could write about ointments
Or topical creams
I could write of appointments
With very good dreams
I could write of a son
Who died on a cross
And how the death of just one
Is so many's loss
All women are crazy
I could write about that
But then I'd just be
A mouse with scorned cats
I could write of our pets
And all their allure
I could write how the vets
Help keep us poor
I could write something civil
About my kids or a friend
Or I could write that this drivel
Has come to an end
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