Slither

Crashes right beside the hugest

Thing that creates the bookworm along with the tea

Then lead slippery, oily, coily worm

Slimy like a newborn centipede.

Turtles are slow.

Hence, they win races.

Tiresome Teachers assign poems on love

Under trees, in times of trouble.

There’s that place that I wondered why I so rarely visited.

“Don’t get robbed,”

The mother exclaimed

Move superlative then comparative.

I begin to sense something of nonsense in this poem, hence…