your darkness my sun

~

your ancestors got the ghost on the run

your best friends are dropping by for fun

as you contemplate purchasing a gun

let your darkness, my dear, be my sun

~

such a dank dweller under a sliver of moon

unable to find your silver spoon

disabled by the great baboon

let us build a little fire in this dark lagoon

~

go ahead, roast a marshmello

i’ll open the canteen

god bless your happy-face hello

& you know exactly what i mean

~

we’re not playing tootsies

we’re not slaying teddy bears

we’re getting older by the minute

as we navigate the starry stairs

~

the ducks quack in the pond

your cups crack in the cupboard

the street is crawling like a snake

have no fear, my dear, it’s time to bake

~

ah yes, your birthday cake!

flour & water & sugar

lots of vanilla frosting on top

oh when when will we stop?

~

i mean this is our favorite month

saint despair breathes down the back of your neck

mister despicable lunges for your hand

but i shall shield you with holy word

~

your ancestors got ’em on the run

your best friends are coming over for some fun

here’s a pocket full of bullets for your new gun

your darkness, dear friend, my sun

!

elvis bojangles

~

art

anonymous

text

copyright clyde collins 2017

~

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