18 October 2024

Happy Spitting

Most poems are 
Buried in your belly.
You gotta dig them up
With a shovel and 
Pull them up.

Many are stuck in
Throat. You need
To gargle sometimes.
You cough them out
Now and then.

Best ones dance on
Tongue. They're like
Spit. They just come
Out of the mouth 
Without effort.

But the belly needs
To be dug, for you
To drool at ease.
Efforts, no doubt 
Are important.

Some fine ones are 
Stuck in the nose too.
Sneezing is fine but 
Sputum again is not 
A good poem.