Prodigal Sun

Drag that lazy Sun out of bed
by his whip-fire hair –
SOB sleeping in late
while we’re freezing
our asses off out here.

Hustle up some coffee, light,
with scorched toast and eggs
sunny-side-up –
then get cracking
in that old yellow van.

Remember, he takes a shine
to that bimbo Dawn,
so no stopping off in Daytona
for the wet T-Shirt contest
like yesterday.

 

 

For The Twiglets

16 thoughts on “Prodigal Sun

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