Poem By Robert Edgar Burns
My native tongue is African,
Though I am American white.
I took it from his mouth tonight.
It was a cannibals delight!
I burnt that tongue out on the grill.
I ready myself for another kill.
I’m so sorry I wasted the other.
I wonder if he has a twin brother?
You know I am not prejudiced.
I hate everyone all the same.
If I can’t speak their lingo,
What’s the good in knowing their name.
When people stop to talk to me,
I go by with eyes toward ground.
Some may call me stuck up,
But gravity will pull me down.
Cowboys they can buff a low.
Do they sometimes buff a high?
It has to be with picante sauce,
From New York where it’s way too dry.
The title is the funniest thing
I have written on this page.
That you went and read it all
Should leave you in a rage.
I had way too many bears,
Er, I mean beers! Burp!
This write is sick dry humor,
Not a language you silly jerk!