UnPoetia:Things

Poetry for people who hate poetry

UnderThings

Forget me not to the finding of true underthings

admit sediments. Soil is not soil

which alters when it alteration finds underthings,

Or bends with the underthing remover to remove:

Oh no! it is an ever-moving jonnie boy

That looks like lamposts and is never stirred but shaken;

It is the fart to every wandering dog,

Wordsworth's unknown, although his fart be taken.

Soil's not rhym with tool, though rosy hips and cheese

within his bending and tickle's arse come:

Soil alters not with his briefs for whores and peeks,

But bares it out even to the edge of poo.

If this be error and upon me proved,

I never writ, nor no man ever soiled.