The Magic Spell
Guido, i' vorrei che tu e Lapo ed io
fossimo presi per incantamento
Picture this, buddy: you and me and Kevin,
air-lifted by some jacked-up magic spell.
Dropped in a boat. We sail halfway to heaven,
carried along on wind-breath and wave-swell.
No stroke of bad luck and no crappy weather
can screw up our plans for a beautiful day.
All of us, we're in this thing together.
Enchanted island? Awesome! Think we'll stay.
We've got Cecilia with us, and Janelle,
and what's-her-name, Apartment 507.
We play sick music, blasted to eleven.
The girls know all the words to "Uptown Funk."
(Everyone dances better when they're drunk.)
This is the life. My boss can go to hell.
Poetry by Uncle Meridian
Read 76 times
Written on 2023-06-18 at 02:07
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