"Boozy Blues Of Big Birth"
The sun rocked back and forth.
A world rolled on the floor.
It had no door.
Big moon followed its path in quarterly phases.
They all spun around the cosmos.
A universal festival of lights.
The days were always turning into the nights.
Our planet was breaking out into fights.
The people took their flights in habitual frights.
I was watching and listening to these sights.
My ear can't hear the tremendous implosions.
They sound like universal explosions.
Backward spinning rotations.
Turns into a windy ocean's existence of flotations.
Only the fish float by rote.
It's worthy of note.
Don't forget your tote raincoat.
Toss the vote in the mail.
Watch the winds fail to make it sail...
By Jonathan Billet
June Fourth, Two Thousand Fifteen...
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