Billy Kerman
Will there be enough?
But they were a little too late,
I have never felt better in my life;
I don’t think it’s her,
Who the hell do you think you are?
And the angel said unto them:
You are profiting from your creative energy,
The freedom to tell lies.
Pouring like an avalanche,
Both to the Kosmos and to man,
Dedicated to universal cultural history.
It is only expected,
Once bitten, twice shy,
The girl is mettle to the back;
The books that will never be read,
I have seen them roused,
It is a dangerous thing for us to dwell upon.
Recycled Poetry 