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

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