This is my last whiskey bottle,
Emptied to carry my last message to you.
I remain trapped in a sea of corn and soybeans
On a small island that grows smaller
With each passing day.
The natives are friendly
But persistent in tracking my activities,
Much harder to tolerate
Given the lack of whiskey.
Still waiting for that rescue you promised.
I miss you.
P.S. If you can’t send a rescue plane,
Or if you expect another message,
Please send another bottle of whiskey.
11 comments:
Ha ha! This gave me a chuckle this morning.
Yeah, most of what I write is soo dark, I felt the need to lighten things up a bit.
LOL, I had commented on this back in December; and it is JUST as funny now. Cheers!
i don't know, it might be cute, but i read it pretty darkly. love it.
the last stanza has that intriguing taste of grim humour that I really loved.
I love the dark humor here - survivors are masters at it!
Great sense of humor in here. Really enjoyed. Thanks
ha this one was a lot of fun..and if i could ever get off my own island here in religeous wasteland i would send a plane...smiles.
ha ha ... send another bottle of whiskey...
I loved this! So fun to read~
Funny and I'm still giggling. Yeah, send the rescue bottle of whiskey. I loved that! Blessings.
http://kickinitwiththekids.wordpress.com/2012/01/30/garden-of-laughs/
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