Cure for Mercury
Talk about the way I spit it,
Man oh man it must be a wishen well,
it's in the body of the wish well,
better yet in you're soul,
To quick to say it's like a infection of skin,
to warm to say its cold.
i just call it a virus insteady,
Tell me about the mercury day of 67',
drawings and paintings,
ring a bell.
Parting my french,
this speech took a minute to swim through the canlle,
but im still here smile and grinding,
Pen to a circle,
I'm in the park after dark,
missing of the missle toe,
I plend the fifth with supper thought,
cause it was love love love.
Love of a nerd, like sign of patient,
land it, in my heart like aladdin,
come and be my genie.
to bright of star...
is it cause were so close to land the shuttle,
we have lost focus of the landing curve,
it is as brand new to a path?
or aging during the days.
Pull up to the orion belt,
call it war hammer of the angels,
with research can you sound it out
like a pen to a pad,
word it, to learn it,
we have found a cure for mercury,
and it is you my darling.....
how sweet is home with me standing next to you.
just a drawing of picture for you to take home.
only kids for now learing the sky.
and the pasts.
Louis Borgo's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (Cure for Mercury by Louis Borgo )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(2 June 1840 – 11 January 1928)
Sheldon Allan Silverstein
(September 25, 1930 – May 10, 1999)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(12 October 1938)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(13 February 1879 - 2 March 1949)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
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