sitting on my island of pounded sand
i see something bobbing towards shore
message in a bottle
cheap wine flask
perhaps someone is seeking me out
maybe another castaway
i uncork the bottle
and pull out the paper
it is from Buk
maybe some great insight
a gem for the downtrodden
nope just one of his silly assed cartooons
my bottle's empty tonight chuck
though you would recognize me as a friend
streamlined conciousness
i am the magic rat
since the day i was born
in new orleans
i think you would remember me
i was the one
with the scruffy fur
and the spark in his eye
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem