I'm writing this <br />for a kindly kid <br />who takes a moment <br />from his I-Pod <br />to humor an old, <br />Anglo, gentleman. <br /> <br />This has no beat. <br />You can't see me dance <br />and I won't read it to you. <br />You read it <br />and solve it <br />yourself. <br /> <br />Think of it as a flyer <br />stuck under <br />your wipers. <br />Think of it as a supermarket coupon <br />for a product <br />you'll never buy. <br />It comes to you from the Planet Bizarro, <br />where everybody's a stupidass, <br />nobody knows the meaning of fun, <br />and swing is a lost, unfinished, melody.<br /><br />Percy Dovetonsils<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/check-it-out-check-it-out/
