|
|
Beetles
Now doth the frisky June Bug
Bring forth his aeroplane,
And try to make a record,
And busticate his brain!
He bings against the mirror,
He bangs against the door,
He caroms on the ceiling,
And turtles on the floor!
He soars aloft, erratic,
He lands upon my neck,
And makes me creep and shiver,
A neurasthenic wreck!
- Charles Irvin Junkin.
Extra Info:
|
|
Printable Page
comments powered by
This page viewed 174607 times.
|
|
