Slippery slip slip

I found a condom on my window sill. This is a poem.

How safe is the universe?

Why do pigeons stare?

I saw two pigeons fighting for a single condom

The battle for the rubber, to be safer than the other

Why are condoms thrown away?

Why are they airborne?

Alas! they are thin, lightweight and never torn

lest they break, the moon will shake

forgive me , says the balloon maker

I am sensible, I am sick

Nostradamus does’t need a toothpick

The rubber will not endure a fall

I see time pass by

I count the needles in the eye

and suddenly, the poem goes off topic

into a land unknown, with folded arms I sit on the throne

tiny little milk packets

Now now, it’s getting grose

read the poem, angry nose

Aah fuck just end it

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