Did your heart stop or feet plop,
did you just have enough
of flowers and hours of
sameness, was it tough?
Did your shoulders stoop, wings droop,
was it all just too much
of lawn tours, then screen doors
locked in my Brooklyn hutch?
If only I knew you, kept honey or a tree,
A flower, grass tower, or something you would see
and realize that outside could be inside too
and fly by the window and out would go you.
[There was a dead bumblebee on my living room floor this morning, so I quickly wrote a children's song about it before going to work. Still feels corny on the re-read and I do cringe and I don't like children's songs, but I needed a day where I wasn't racing the clock to create before midnight. So there it is. I wanted to write a children's book about a little cocooned caterpillar who couldn't handle it anymore and commits suicide, and the next day all of its friends become butterflies. If properly written, it'll be more positive than macabre, I swear.]
did you just have enough
of flowers and hours of
sameness, was it tough?
Did your shoulders stoop, wings droop,
was it all just too much
of lawn tours, then screen doors
locked in my Brooklyn hutch?
If only I knew you, kept honey or a tree,
A flower, grass tower, or something you would see
and realize that outside could be inside too
and fly by the window and out would go you.
[There was a dead bumblebee on my living room floor this morning, so I quickly wrote a children's song about it before going to work. Still feels corny on the re-read and I do cringe and I don't like children's songs, but I needed a day where I wasn't racing the clock to create before midnight. So there it is. I wanted to write a children's book about a little cocooned caterpillar who couldn't handle it anymore and commits suicide, and the next day all of its friends become butterflies. If properly written, it'll be more positive than macabre, I swear.]
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