(about 1992)
We don't believe them
and of course we don't live by them,
Still, we do them for fun;
all for fun?
We both say we have a love,
so we each pick a flower;
mine is red.
"He loves me, he loves me not, he loves me . . ."
So does he?
We continue down a dusty road,
jump the cracks
(or we'll break our mothers' backs)
while we still see
whether "he loves me not," or "he loves me . . ."
So does he?
Our path is split by an apple tree;
we each take a side
and vocally
serve our "bread and butter"
on a silver platter.
You spilled the salt
so throw it over you left shoulder
and pick two shiny apples--
one for you, one for me.
We'll twist the stem
A,B,C,D,E,F,G . . .
L,M,N,O,P,Q,R . . .
"He loves me not, he loves me!"
Jump over those train tracks,
kiss your hand,
and make a wish that he really does--
for fun.
