Gibberish
By Thomas Field
September 6, 2007
I went to lands
With marching bands
On hunts with native beaters
And thus employed
Fell through the void
Amongst the lotus eaters
I languished there
Without a care
But soon was dissipated
I cleared my head
And gazed in dread
At the creature I'd created
My Aide-de-Camp
Dressed like a tramp
Drank whenever she got bored
The Major-Domo
Worked pro-bono
Then died as he fell on his sword
As time went by
I had to fly,
Relentlessly seeking my doom
I never knew
Before I flew
Who did what, and where, or to whom
About the author:
I'm a 48 year old aspiring poet and artist from Dallas Texas. I don't know what this poem is about, but after re-reading it, it seems to have something to do with the Bush administration.
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