a slip of the mask
his true face firmly revealed
a gray from the stars
Bob Boyd
Writing free verse poetry
a slip of the mask
his true face firmly revealed
a gray from the stars
Bob Boyd
big eyes and gray skin
shapeshifts into anything
a gray alien
Bob Boyd
Hey, Flatwoods Monster where are you from
And would you like some sweet bubble gum?
I’m from a planet called Ackernum
And too classy to chew bubble gum.
Really, Sir, did you have to go there
As if a conceited royal’s heir?
You nailed it, a royal heir I am
Soon I’ll be His Majesty King Sam.
So bow down to me you silly knave
Before I make you my earthling slave
And stuff your bubble gun down your throat
And feed you to the crocs in my moat.
Bob Boyd