Bill Z Bub4 Jul 2003

the story of an altarboy who wore white too long. Then one day he got gangrene and his toes rotted off, each little piggy one by one falling and collected in a basket that he keeps in the back of a cupboard. Just don't let the earwigs in. They have a knack for pinching what little memory is left.

Hmm, I see you've been around a while. But I don't think I've read any poems of yours before today. Oh here's a Ten --> 10.