Boogerfruits

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  • Boogers
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  • Children
    • GeniusMan
    • When push comes to shove, conga lines can get pretty ugly.

    Poem Commentary

    Boogers, Boogers, I love you the most Boogers, Boogers, like you will never know I look at my hands and I know where I'm sticking 'em It always brings me great joy just for picking them.

    Boogerfruits

     Tiptoe through the cornfields,
    Because the ears there might hear you,
    and get low in the spud fields,
    Because their eye sight might find you.
    But boogerfruits, boogerfruits will always be ripe.
    And boogerfruits smell pretty nice.
    And as a warning if you didn't know this,
    don't eat the almonds, they're really just nuts.
    And nectarines and plums are the pits.
    Don't eat the peaches, they're really just butts.
    There's no need to worry where hands to be sticking
    Boogerfruits are always ready for picking 

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    Poetry is what gets lost in translation.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

    GeniusMan’s Poems (63)

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