ThePoetryTeacher.com
By Steffani H. Gilligan,
a poet for the classes
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Spray and WashBy Steffani H. Gilligan I can’t open my ketchup. I wish I had some scissors. I’d cut that pesky packet. And create a ketchup river.
Swishing, swirling, and whirling. I’d let ketchup freely flow. Delicately dipping corndog, From his head down to his toe.
He was swimming in the river. You should really see him go! He asked me for some mustard, But I had to tell him, “No.”
Well, that corndog became angry! He dove down quickly with a squirt! Popping up with a backstroke, Splashing ketchup on my shirt.
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