Robin Eggs

Robin Eggs

A Poem by Kenneth The Poet

red robin ice cream eggs
made from pig parts and
broken dreams of wayward
children of our depravity
and our lucidity combined

we are incomplete quadratic
forms yearning for an ease,
a completion unattainable
with the methods of analysis
in our current repertoire

we are the piss in the
plastic pop bottle that
drenches the face of the
public service worker when
his lawn tractor catches it
as he cleans the highway ditch

we are the dog s**t that
stains the rubber sole of
the deity's sneaker heel
that can never be
scratched off,
the smell never
fades away

mentally depraved,
socially stunted,
all awkward of course,
totally separated from
the dictator that
created us from
lower life forms

robin eggs caught
in a cowbird's game
of mailbox baseball.

© 2011 Kenneth The Poet


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Reviews

We are cool.
Great stuff

Posted 14 Years Ago


A very interesting ending... yes society seems to try and make the less fortunate out to be a burden and beneath the rich. Thumbs up on the creative rant.

Posted 14 Years Ago


robin eggs caught
in a cowbird's game
of mailbox baseball

That pretty much sums it all up...our beauty spoiled by the parasite's unyielding game. A favourite for me, this one.

Posted 14 Years Ago



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91 Views
3 Reviews
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Added on November 12, 2011
Last Updated on November 12, 2011

Author

Kenneth The Poet
Kenneth The Poet

Bismarck, ND



About
Kenneth The Poet is an optimist wrapped in the candy shell of moroseness and cynicism. He lives between the two parallels marked 46 and 49, all while living in the state marked 39. He pretends that he.. more..