Pushing Sisters
Pushing sisters don’t know where,
With arms and legs and lofted feet,
Into space or inner currents
They fly like birds and crazy ants.
They sing a song of coconuts
And scoop up resin on the way.
They sail into passing clouds
Like drunken pilots in the sky.
They eat their breakfast on the way
And look at stormy nights and dream.
They ride the stormy cliffs on top
That dig down deep into the stars.
Drunken birds fly into storms
To ride the lightning bolts.
They slide down the other side
And scrape their worn out tusches.
As day goes riding into night,
We set our compass to the time,
As sisters ride the storm at ease
And sing a song of glee.
Sisters flying with the elephants
We look up in the heavy skies.
As astronauts climb, we set our sights
And see our clogged up spaces.
We see sisters pushing purple logs
And logs in their pushing sisters.
We see oceans moving upward
And rivers running out of time.
Outward space reaches inward
To find its launching pads.
Sisters climb on top to see
The hands that pushed them up.
So is the day of the crazy days,
When sisters ride into the night.
Weird things happen when we
Push our sisters into space.
Pushing Sisters is by no means associated with Nuns or Relatives. It's just a lot of nonsense. Nothing derogatory is meant for this poem. I think it is just funny.
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