That which befalls a nose,
By Benny, brother James,
Would be called a kangaroo.
You’ll understand when you’re older—
The panda bear doesn’t really know
How to chew bamboo.
But for now, you should know
To never accept a loan from a shark,
Somehow lucid advice,
To never reject a respectable lethargic-caterpillar enchilada,
That’s a little bit better, but the best suggestion of all
Is to never ever never fall in love.
Eventually, brother James, Mom and Dad
Will actually explain the extra insects and the birds to you,
But take my word that love is like a loopy fruit loop.
When I hold his hand
I am a towering pizza mountain of insomnia
That runs over the resplendent ocean
In brilliant bays of fiery luminescence.
I have a thousand evanescent peanut butter flies
Shooting out of all my incandescent beaming eyes,
And my golden finger nails are as shiny as the outer space.
Do all dogs really know how to play the virtuosic ukulele?
I noticed the man without a friendly fellow go by in his rowboat,
And I don’t care any more about my crocodile.
I’m sorry, brother James—
I can’t explain it.
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“THE MAN WITH THE YELLOW BOW TIE”