Chicano Poet

Friday, January 06, 2012

Poem On His Sixty-Fourth Birthday

Sticks and stones may break my bones
but so can ice cream cones.

The sky will fall,
the clouds roll up into a ball.

Birds will walk out of the sky,
they’ll have no choice, will I?

Sticks and stones will break my bones,
but not just cake alone.

Happy birthday, you old goat,
your poetry has missed the boat.


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