I think that in a former life
I was a block of wood
Because I like to do nothing
While smelling sort of good,
I’d be hurt if hit by a chainsaw
And I’m warm when set on fire.
My dream is to one day be famous
So next life I’ll be a Goodyear tire
Tag Archives: Wood
Wood Chips
There’s a big pile of wood chips
Outside my apartment
Just three floors down
From my balcony.
Now Autumn leaf piles
Are my fun department,
And all that small timber
Looked just the same to me.
To I climbed three stories
To the roof of my flat
Thinking of stories
I’d soon have to tell.
In hindsight, I was stupid.
I realize that,
But despite the mistake,
My jump went quite well.
I’m writing this poem
From my private suite
At Saint Andrew’s center
For injuries from small boards.
I’m hosting some bloggers
Who seem pretty neat,
And they say they’ll refer me
To the Darwin Awards.
If you ever doubt that life is good,
Jump into a pile of tiny wood.
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 