For crying out loud I would say
If I were to read my poetry out loud
I’d stumble over my loins and lines
Like an old man losing his balance street side
Falling down onto his buttons and behind
Legs straight up and feet dangling in the air
Making my appearance an out loud cry
And my words … for crying out loud
Why nothing more than absurdity
In a world apart lie the written and the spoken
And I … I am fine to leave them there
Written and left not spoken
© Robert AuBuchon Jr
December 30 2011
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