friskin

Emma and I wrote the BEST poem in the world EVER for this boy named Rich. We like to think that he's our friend. We gave him the only copy that exists, but it's just too good to not try to remember. It's totally fucking bizarre. We wrote it on the way home today, because we were sad that he didn't come with us to Baraboo. Well, it makes me laugh, anyway.....

Dear Rich,

The water was not as blue
As your eyes.
The rocks were not as new
as your cries.
The bus was not as yellow
As your sweet skin.
The lunch was not as mellow
As your meat grin.
The trail was not as long
As your flowing, red robe.
The mounds were not as strong
As your left ear lobe.
The air was not as clean
As your soul.
The grass was not as green
As your mole.
The stream was not as damp
As your hair.
The hikers were not as vamp
As your loving care.
Nothing was as beautiful
As you.

We missed you today. Love, "Rich's Rhyming Bitches"