Ljóðaskapur á miðvikudegi.

Peter Prim the Fire-Eater

Peter Prim the fire-eater
ate a propane camping heater
followed by a butane lighter
and a barbeque igniter.
Next he drank some gasoline,
and a quart of kerosene,
(or perhaps it was a liter;
no one knows for sure but Peter).
Last, to finish off the batch
Peter ate a flaming match.
Bits of Peter Prim, they say,
lit a half a mile away,
(or perhaps a kilometer;
who's to say except for Peter?).
Nothing more was seen of him.
Rest in pieces, Peter Prim.
--Kenn Nesbitt

Izzy O'RaintyI's

Izzy O'Rainty
I ain't not bizzare.
I is how I ain't
and I ain't how I are.

I wasn't not never
the way that I was.
And now I don't never
not do what I does.

At being not me
I is truly a whiz.
I is what I's not
and I ain't what I is.

I wouldn't not never
not do what I won't.
Whatever I can do
I certainly I don't.

I isn't not happy.
I has no complaint.
I's perfect not being
just not how I ain't.

I is how I are when
I ain't how I be.
I's Izzy O'Rainty
I's not really me.

--Kenn Nesbitt