Friday, September 24, 2010

Poem #7

I live life afraid of attack from a pickle.
I don't understand why you're so hard to tickle.
I still wouldn't trade just a one of your pinches
for ball in my hand with third down and just inches.

I am disgusted by pickles. Beth has been known to chase me around with them, threatening to touch me with them. She's also extraordinarily resistant to tickling. She also used to pinch me quite a lot. Not so much recently. I kind of miss it, actually. The key to perfect harmony would be for her to pinch me, but not so hard that it hurts! The football reference was nothing but a stretch for a rhyme.

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