ode to a lonely label-less can

ode to a lonely label-less can o lonely label-less can what art thou inside? be thy beef stew? be thy cream of celery? be thy green beans? (be thy anything?) i shan't not know until i open thine head and gut thee but i wouldst not do that to thee, can, for thou be'est my only friend, the only one i talk to for thou art the only one that will listen and to gut you would simply be rude nay, my lonely label-less can, i could not hurt you for, i love you i think'est that we should be married perhaps the 15th of july but since thou hath an expiration date, we shall have to make everyday count o, what shall our children look like can? shall they have your gentle smile? shall they have your noble brow? or shall they have my goofy smile and large pachidermian ears? (can i give myself such airs?) "...how many bottles and cans piled up in our garbage pales?..."- THE WELL-KNOWN giggling nihilist, MY AUNT, AND I WROTE THIS POEM..WELL, MOSTLY ME. I DICKTATE AND SHE "CLICKETY-CLACKS" (TYPES). SHE STOLE THIS POEM LIKE THE TREACHEROUS HAIRY-LEGGED DYKE THAT SHE IS!! --THE WHORE-ER!! --THAT CUNT!! --THAT BUSHY ARMPITTED, CRUSTY TOE-NAILED LECHEROUS SKANK!! --I SHALL HAVE MY REVENGE!! Written March 25th, 2002 © on Mar 25 2002 02:50 AM PST   10 • 0 • 16