The Boink
I, the boink, trill as I bounce down the street
Ignoring all else, I move at my own beat
The boink is not a walker, I have no feet
The drum of my step is none but a bleat
My coils clickety-clack on the train track
A bird flutters out of my way, hitting Jack
Just ahead, the jingle of a man taking keys out of sack
Another on the street opens a new tobacco pack
An oink, and a moo, and a cockle-doodle-do
I watch a man take his wife to the zoo
Orange gorillas and monkeys too
The big train goes choo-choo
This poem is about:
Me
Our world