My house of water has no windows.
I see the sun through it's ever changing walls.
If I need to go out, I just dress for it and walk right through.
So many blues that when I squint they look orange.
Seeing is only a problem at night.
Other than that, it's quite alright.
I have no use for pictures.
And the seagulls aren't sure what to think .
On moonlit nights I like to look up and watch the fish dance in the ceiling.
Lean over and from my night stand and take a drink.
The mice have not been a problem .
But the Sugar Smacks frog moved in and won't say anything but, "Dig 'em."
So at breakfast, his one true love,
I ask him things like "what do you do to a ditch"?
"What do frogs say when there coughing on a hairball"?
I ask him if by his duds he wishes to join Fat Albert's gang?
The answerer remains the same .
We tried French, Spanish, English, and Chinese with no luck.
So now he's teaching me Frog Talk!
So far I have learned "Dig 'em".
Snails are my refrigerator magnets .
I've taught a newt to make toast .
Doing the dishes is a breeze, just like a frisbee with a boomerang angle .
Dust flows away .
We would never last in a land where snow balls pass .
But I can wash the walls while reading in the bath .
Friends don't drop by they drip in (sorry the frog dug it) .
Don't get me wrong, I like it, it's good .
But the moon pulls more than you'd think it could .
One full mooned night I laid down to a liquidy slumber.
I awoke in a kitchen sink covered in draino being attacked by Larry the plumber!
�2003 Daniel J Harris