The puddles follow you home

No one here ever builds level,

no feeler gauge grazes the wonk.

My dear, the rains of afternoon

delight in the rainboots’ romp.

Every surface, my baby, is a bevel,

so no drop meets ground with a thwomp.

Your boots meet the ground in slow motion,

so it reacts as you wish with the stomp.


3 thoughts on “The puddles follow you home

    1. thecuriousbum Post author

      Admittedly it’s not where I wanted to take it. Once I decided on that rhyming scheme made it even harder–couldn’t think of a lot of rhymes with ‘level.’ hehe


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