Let Me Play The Lime

Not that limes grow on shrubs, or on faces,
or on top of the world. Not that I am
on top of the world. Not that I. Not that
I am. Then again, not that I am a yam. For
while being a lion might be nice, I am
not a yam, a lime, or even a lion.

Yet yes, it would be nice for my mighty roar
to roar too terribly, frightening the Duchess and
the ladies so that they shriek. For at the gallows
at least, I’d know just where I stood.

Well, can it be called standing when your
feet don’t touch the ground? Maybe, yet
more importantly, a single lime hardly counts as a
proper last meal. Though, is it really even
morally and/or ethically okay to feed someone
that is going to die? I mean, what about
those starving kids in Africa?

And sure, I could fix that, but they don’t let you
take guns on airplanes and I have yet to
learn the art of walking across water. Or maybe
guns aren’t proper food for children, but
if that’s the case, at what age does it become
socially acceptable to feed someone a gun?

Elan Radousky enjoys writing poetry, juggling objects, and most types of fruits and vegetables. His poems have appeared in Eunoia Review, Right Hand Pointing, and One Sentence Poems. Some of Elan’s poetry (and comics) can be discovered over at his website.

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