The Poet Is A Dinosaur

He put pet dinosaurs in his poems
and baseball mitts.

He was so far out in left field,
he played football.

The dinosaurs were well-suited
for snowglobe weather.

They ate the grass
from underneath the quarterback.

The princess/cheerleader was their favorite
as she bathed and shaved.

The poet himself was covered
in Martian soil.

Leather had once been sub-human
which brought a tear to his eye.

A stadium devoid of human suffering
was ideal but ill-advised.

He was a poet after all
and words failed him every time.