I want bongos for my birthday
beat beat beat
Oh I want them in the worst way
beat beat beat
Listen to the poets
go at the words
Have you heard their thoughts curled
swirled
unfurled
about their heads?
Those poets glow, man
beat beat beat
I wanna go find some bongos, man
Find the beat
fire the heat
be complete with the time, the rhyme,
Oh so sublime
beat beat beat
Bongos, man.
Yeah.
.
.
(My birthday was this week. I did NOT get bongos. Boo hoo.)
(Or a beret or tight black pants, though that’s probably for the best).
Shawn L. Bird 