The Bucket List Poet


The Bucket List Poet
With a bucket on his head

He reads the 50 poems

He wants to read

Before he is dead.
Muffled and echoey

He recites what he can recall

As he can’t seem to read

The words written at all.
“I wandered lonely

As a… 

cloud…

But, wandering aimlessly

Should not be allowed-

Then something about some flowers

And maybe an ancient partygoer

That stops a mariner

Or three…”
and on it goes…

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