Wednesday, April 8, 2020

NaPoWriMo--DAY EIGHT

NapoWriPo PROMPT: Peruse the work of one or more of these twitter bots, and use a line or two, or a phrase or even a word that stands out to you, as the seed for your own poem.

Crazy Man Dies*

I met a traveler dressed in camo green. 
His two vast legs had pockets down each side. 
His rifle was a cold killing machine. 
His sneering face had greenish paint applied. 

I asked him why he wore the combat gear.
“I’m hunting fuzzy wabbits in the wood,
Or maybe just a porcupine or deer..
But right now a loo would do me good.” 

I said, “You think out here you’ll find a loo?

Ask any bear around and he will say;
‘Right on the ground is where you leave your poo.
It greens the grass as soon as it decays.' " 

He wrinkled up his lip just like a king.

“If I did that may lightning strike me dead.”
A cloud let loose and struck him with a zing.
Nothing beside remains but melted lead.

*Ozymandias--(see what I did there?)


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