The POTW: Verse Til It Hurts

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POTW #864
(Week of 30 March, 2014)

    
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The other day I bought this object called a Kill-A-Watt, which you stick in an electrical outlet, and then you plug things into it and it tells you how much power they're using. Which makes it a pretty fun toy, actually, if you're like me and you like to know stuff. It also led to this poem, in what I suspect is a fairly obvious way.

Leaky

There was a leaky baby who became a leaky man
Whose goops and goos and points of view were slopped across the land
He splattered all his neighbors and his family and friends
With seepage and intangibles and pungent notion blends

And they returned the favor with their droppings and their ooze
Their counterpoints and memories and stuff scraped off their shoes
A giant twisted writhing groping colony of snails
The cleanest human journey leaves a broad and slimy trail

Our tentacles and ventricles and ineffective seals
Untidy and unsavory but part of the appeal
From birth to death and after that we dribble and we spew
But time and space and facts and life are pretty leaky too

Copyright © 2014 by Dave Grossman

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Buy This Book:

Interested in more? Check out "Ode to the Stuff in the Sink," Dave's illustrated book of "guy" verse (concerning the deeper philosophies of things like not doing the laundry, putting your feet on the furniture, and of course beer) at the Maximegalomporium (our store). And did I mention it was illustrated? Pictures!


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