Sometimes people ask me, "Erin, do your days of nonstop art making become tiresome? Do you not long for a different means to express yourself?" When I am asked this, I chuckle, sit the person down on my lap, and tell them, "No, my friend, for you see, I am a woman of many talents and passions. In fact, I once was a poet."
"A poet!" they cry, in disbelief, "Do tell me more."
I proceed to tell them of my days as a lass in regular English class. (By the way, that last sentence rhymed and I didn't even mean for it to. I still got it!). Behold, a work I penned:
Rectal bleeding
I have no phone calls.
Heavens to Betsy
Spark plug!
Meat chilling in the cooler
The answer is "green"
Put it behind your legs
Warm Suzanne Somers night.
Sean Penn frightens me
Elegance to the touch
Raspberry Jam pie
Turn around.
Sandbag sunrise
Towering walrus monument
Chicken in a trash can
Take off one sock.
She turned into a salt lick
There is a hair in my eye
The Albatross!
There you have it. A masterpiece, formerly unseen by the eyes of men, here for you to enjoy. Embrace it, for within its cryptic lines lie the very secrets of love, beauty, and the human soul.
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