eek, a frog, by Herman Shorts

eek, a frog

does a king come ready–

made, or doesn’t he

emerge from a prince

once a frog,

and aren’t you

supposed to kiss him first?

i think you’ve got things

all wrong, unless

of course, i do.

(2014)

we were all talking, things taking shape as they do, when someone said, be desireless, like that is at all a thing people

first fruits hardly a handful, the garden

root it out the tiny bit left that says someone’s in charge not you. don’t let it live

I will meet you in the open air, & pet your pony’s nose. You will be

if ever someone is my dearest ear who hears my truth as theirs

was all stupid. you weren’t that entertaining. i find it all only sad now, that

the conquering child turns 50, gets the gag out its mouth, says here i am. let’s play now

we are nearly always a world which almost

oh, and how it gets you these bastard assumptions, one or two commonalities

yeah, the contract the social one, so long ago supposedly agreed to, we were born instead into. what

reflecting on the moment before, would be useful only were it not already perfect.

when (finally) we meet I’m thinking spring wildflowers will bloom on high

people, mostly all barely beyond apes, cannot be trusted. they are incapable of caring

they really do know how to shove something up your ass like

nobody goes mad on purpose, also never is it not shared,