A Kind Of Tipsy Poem by Dorsey Baker

A Kind Of Tipsy



Eye catching bald
Eagle fish frying
Hot stove
Body builder
Engine full of spark
Deep in the middle
Of lonely street

Looking down
A wave good bye
Overcrowded
Missed a flight
Booked a real good hot dog

Left for dead
Skin burned
Half naked
The monster awakens
His deep fried chicken eyes
Afraid of life
Ready to run with his tears
Away from living!

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