Trevor McLeod Poems

Where farts rose quickly on the internet
people went clicking
People more drickling
People were rickly
...

Where the poet died
while writing what,
His hand gone by
for what he thought
...

Britches to shirt tails
in pigtails not pony.
She's Pippi the Longstocking,
her legs long and bony.
...

You'll put up a statue
and say I'm a poet
When all of you worship
what I'll never know it
...

I hate him
He angers me
I wish he'd die as quick
...

The pumpkin's eyes
are rarely seen
without your visions
imagined dreams
...

The pumpkins eyes
are rarely seen
without your visions
imagined dreams
...

The politician's poverty
is slum upon the street
When bum and cart will make you roll
through city home and fleet
...

The trees now blowing blast wind
Their limbs held down for joy
The boughs are bending half way
as foliage comes to toy
...

Happy birthday to you
You haggard old hand
You've age like a goose egg
in spots of your brand
...