April 29, 1982, I wrote this poem at 9-years-old and I'm proud of the surprisingly exquisite meter!
Please do not get mad that my writing is so bad,
because it's hard to write a poem on a giraffe.
...and knocks on the box from the kid with two different socks from both sides of the tracks who fell through the cracks but developed a taste for sushi and oysters and herbs and dreams and Manhattans with Beam and picked up a full head of steam.