Flamingo

 

I try and I try and I try

But still, I barely get by

I sell my blood once a week

My anemia makes me seem very meek

Also the bloodletting makes me pale

So much so, last time I was arrested I didn’t have to post bail

I acted spiritual by sitting cross-legged on the floor

All the police whooped and clamored for more

So I stood like a flamingo with one foot in the air as I swayed from side to side

Then the handgun fell out of my pants and I nearly died

The Station erupted in guffaws that shook the bars and every window

With tears streaming down his face the Police Chief said “You’re such a dumb ass we’re letting you go.”

I picked up my fake crutches, handed over the gun, and rushed toward the door

But the Desk Sergeant yelled “Before you go stand like a flamingo again once more!”

I stood there briefly with one foot in the air

I would’ve posed as a tsetse fly to get out of there