If you’re in a creative slump
With no ideas at all
Recall the Christmas ornament guy
Who said, “How ‘bout a ball?”
If you’re in a creative slump
With no ideas at all
Recall the Christmas ornament guy
Who said, “How ‘bout a ball?”
Filed under Poems
I am a man without skin.
There’s nothing to keep my guts in.
And yet somehow I lived on,
Quite at home on somebody’s lawn.
Then one day the world went black.
They put me in the basement and didn’t look back.
Now my place on the grass has a penguin instead.
There’s some deer on the roof and a weirdly-shaped sled.
But I know when the snow is gone,
When leaves fall on the golden lawn
I’ll be back to rule the night.
Until then, I’ll be alright.
Filed under Poems