Let’s Get Wild
By Dan Morey

I want to weed whack
In pleated pants.
The nice ones
You got me for church.
Wouldn’t that be wild?

I’ll do my taxes
Without a calculator,
And say something rude
To the mailman.
Wild!

We can sleep past eight,
And eat corndogs for breakfast.
Then split a wine cooler
And watch Dr. Phil.
Feeling wild?

We’ll go down to the beach
In blue jeans and leather,
Sit on a sand castle,
And call the lifeguard “fatty.”
C’mon, let’s get wild!