3A Poem by Nobody.3 If I were
to count to ten, Excluding the
number three based on its obvious Physical deformities,
spiritual ambiguity And multiple
mental shortcomings, What would
the deeper meaning be? Nothing
can mean nothing Anymore. There are
too many somethings To be
skimmed from such experimental Activities. Even
Newton was a raving numerologist. My issue
with this sort of thinking Is that
we, the hairless talking monkey-nephew, Made up all of these symbols and grunts.
We
invented them, We defined
them, We corrupted them. To think
that the number 3, With its
double-humped back And silly
crackly voice, Could take
on its own life and meaning Is,
somehow, As stoopid
as believing that my recent mis- Spelling of
the word “stupid” has some Creamy decodable
center. I fear
that the truth is That we
all want to be more like our Heroes. So, If Isaac
Newton counted to ten, Excluding the
number three based on its obvious Physical deformities,
spiritual ambiguity And multiple
mental shortcomings, What would
the deeper meaning be? Probably
something to do with Jesus’ red sandals Matching
Nostradamus’ green hat As was
foretold by Eve’s lack of a bellybutton Which was
directly related to Lord Xenu’s Big yellow
teeth and silky pink bunny ears. “Another
mystery solved!” So sayeth
the cross-eyed brontosaurus With the
unkempt mustache Who has
been masquerading as the number 3.
© 2011 Nobody.Featured Review
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Added on June 8, 2011Last Updated on June 8, 2011 Author
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