A Poem for My Friend Lee

O Lee my friend
Whose arms emanate from his torso
To reach and grasp and hold
Whose lungs expand and contract
To bring new air to his body
Whose head sits on top of the rest of him
To allow the best view possible
Whose kneecaps point forward always
To remind him where he is heading
Whose nose sticks outward rather than inward
To savor others rather than himself
Whose feet go plippety-plop
As he moves himself among the rocks
Whose mighty legs hold strong
As he kicks the rocks from his path
Whose voice cries out in the night
As the rocks strike his battered chest
Whose withered anus bleeds
As he expels the clinging rocks
Whose blood vessels become clogged
As the rocks begin to stick
Whose brain ceases to think
As it turns to solid rock
This poem is for you
You weirdo

Boy, what a weak ending.
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