Wednesday Poetry

Crazy Alphabet

By Billie Daddario

All of my letters run round

Won’t stand still, won’t calm down.

They make camp fires behind my peepers.

This is the year I lost my eye cheaters.

I’m making do with an old pair.

All the letters have grown hair down to there.

They all squish together and won’t become clear.

How am I ever going to hear their words?

They’re all changing places.

Turning slices to splices,

And aces to graces.

It’s been quite an antic and I’m really quite ready

For my letters to lie down for a Knapp.

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