Poetry (and i hate the conotations that come with that word but there is no other word out there that fits) seems to be just popping into my mind these days and so I continue to write it down. All of these are in rough and subject to change but whatever. Here is the latest written while covering the hostesses break at the restaurant:
If I were a gnome where would I go?
Up to the mountains all covered in snow.
Or maybe a gardin al grassy and greem
to hide in the tomatoes where I'd never be seen.
Or maybe I'd lie on a beach by the sea,
But a sandy gnome is a concept brand new to me.
I could Hijack a ship and sail the world,
A bycaneering barnicle boat sails unfurled.
I'd land in Ireland a right magic place
And dance a jig with the Leprechaun race.
But gnome I am not I say with great woe,
And stuck at this hostest stand with no place to go!
-Nathan-
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