Ode to Emily Dickinson

A few months ago, a friend reminded me of a little poem I wrote. I had completely forgotten about it – I couldn’t even remember if or where I had written it down. Since he brought it up, I could only remember the last word or two.

About 5 minutes ago, for no explicable reason, the entire poem fell into my head. I wrote it during an American Lit class in college. We were studying Emily Dickinson, and I was divinely inspired. It means a lot to me, and I’d like to share it with all of you.

Mr. Possum trod down the street.
My pedal to the floor.
Mack truck swerves; a delightful bump.
Marsupial no more.

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2 thoughts on “Ode to Emily Dickinson

  1. Shit, man, Dickinson by way of Johnny Knoxville. That’s hilarious. Very tight, too. Nice rhyme & meter.

    Skink food.

  2. Pshaw – you flatter me, sir.

    Yeah, when I become Poet Laureate, my one small, simple request is that Christopher Walken read “Mr. Possum trod down the street” at my acceptance ceremony.

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