I didn’t heed
the last red light.
I’m high on feed,
been driving all night.
Tossed back a few
some hours ago.
Hopped in my shoe
out looking for a ho.
Stuck on the top hat,
greased back my ears,
washed off the floor mat,
started blowing through gears.
Hop in my shoe, honey,
I won’t race or skid,
‘cause I’m a cool bunny
and I want forty kids…
©2011 Donna French
