A while ago, I posted the video of Steve Subrizi's poem "Seaweed Baby," mentioning there were several sequel/tribute/knock-off poems written by Steve and others, then I posted my own knock off, "Bull Headed Baby." Tempted to write another, I started one called "Octuplet Babies" (the open mikes like it when you're topical), which one week later was going about as well as you might expect. At the very least, my stinky effort inspired the new knock-off listed below.
Shark Jumping Baby
Hey-hey-hey-HEEEEY!
This isn’t even funny.
I’m a baby. I can’t reach
the handlebars of this bike
or the kickstand.
And why am I not surprised
that I'm STILL covered in seaweed
and that someone put MORE on me
when I wasn't looking?
Turn the motor off.
I don’t care about movie magic,
or your new directions in storytelling.
I don't care if you expect me
not to make it over the pool
or even if you planned it that way.
I've been born long enough
I've almost forgotten what God is,
but I've seen you pretend to be,
and I know God wouldn't run out of ideas
or ever need a story to be just as endless.
Come on! Anyone watching knows
you're making a big mistake.
All this inventing around me,
all this adding of extra rail
to a circular train track,
you never stopped to ask:
can't we just take the seaweed off
and get the poor baby home?
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