I’m as sharp as a button, as bright as a tack
But curious kittens are one thing I lack
Whilst crying on mustard, I’m slicing the milk
With gold on my tongue that is rougher than silk
Like cake in one piece taking two in the eye
When dogs flee my bag all those snoozing cats lie
The heat of the tango – one moment in June
A cloud filled with madness, a silver-lined moon
My roof contains chickens but none that are hatched
And singular straws from a basket that’s thatched
When stories aren’t true they make short colours long
The eggs turn to blue – it’s too good to be wrong
It took me two stones just to murder one bird
A measure so drastic it felt quite absurd
When down on the uptake and chasing my ball
I’m sliding through flames adding fuel to it all
So let Elvis leave as we’ve seen better times
This poem is bonkers – thank heavens it rhymes!

Aiden Bex