And we’ll go “wabbit hunting.”
I’ll pack us a picnic lunch
And wrap a furry bunting up,
So that, when we’re ready,
We can sprawl and fawn,
And feed each other crustless scones
And scatter thereupon
Our passing, invisible baubles,
And our trophies, and our crowns,
And forget them all,
And disseminate
Our sophisticated gowns.
And there, uncomplicated, we
Can love each other— free
From all the trappings
Of culture’s snares,
And together
Simply beeeeeeeeeeeeeee.
(Now that, My Friend, is a worthy pursuit of booty.)
-jenn long
No comments:
Post a Comment