HTML Poem by Mary McCray
Best viewed in an Internet browser with a mouse
(July 2020)
All that is neither here, nor there.
These single choices of thee,
they have nothing to do with me.
Like a pirate ship floating out in the sea,
this has nothing to do with me.
Like a swahsbuckler making his way down the old Yangtze,
this has nothing to do with me.
Like a happy little cowboy shouting yipee,
this has nothing to do with me.
Like a man's lovely letters up on a marquee,
this has nothing to do with me.
Like a beachside balcony with a glass of chablis,
this has nothing to do with me.
Like a superstar at the spelling bee,
this has nothing to do with me.
Like the turqoise fetish you found at Zuni,
this has nothing to do with me.
Like a gaggle of girls waving flags at the Grand Prix,
this has nothing to do with me.
Like electric blue waves floating outside of Capri,
this has nothing to do with me.
Like the sexy birds and the bumble bee,
this has nothing to do with me.
Like a juggler of hearts making a guarantee,
this has nothing to do with me.
On the slopes where pretty girls lie down
when all the dreamy fables come to town,
This has nothing to do with me.
☐