He doesn’t want to try
your spicy butter bean pie.
He will tell you, If you fall
there’s nothing I can do,
so don’t fall. He will tell you
he is going to go to sleep
and bow his head like he is praying
to a God called Snooze
and be asleep before you say OK.
He will let you use his head as a map,
his back as a waterproof,
he laugh as a gust of wind
blowing you in the right direction.
He doesn’t want to try
your spicy butter bean pie.

© Carl Burkitt 2022