Chicano Poet

Tuesday, August 13, 2013

Will The Real Rocky Raccoon Please Stand Up

I was pretending to be Rocky Raccoon
I was upstairs recuperating soon.

The bullet squirmed and bled
doing its best impression of lead.

Each gunfight is sad.
So much geometry to add.

The Sheriff ruled out rope.
The deputy was a dope.

Rocky's six-shooter yawned on the nightstand
before it dozed off into La La land.

Rocky's cowboy vest curled up on a chair.
His teddy bear eyes were black hair.

I guess I'm done pretending to be a raccoon,
but please come back soon.


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