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stormsewerA poem my mother found, that I probably wrote around age seven:
Never smile at a crocidile
Never smile at a crocidile,
Or you’ll be in double trouble,
By the time you get to heaven
Your brother will be eleven,
When you get resurrected,
You’ll be protected,
You’ll drive around in a hevey chevey
As you can see, I was quite sophisticated in the avant garde even at this young age.
Never smile at a crocidile
Never smile at a crocidile,
Or you’ll be in double trouble,
By the time you get to heaven
Your brother will be eleven,
When you get resurrected,
You’ll be protected,
You’ll drive around in a hevey chevey
As you can see, I was quite sophisticated in the avant garde even at this young age.
