the last green eggs

fishgreen eggs in a bent cup for the goatman who picked up the book of shut-away things with hands that shake and yes yes he can see it all now / milkgreen eggs on a milkwhite dish for the little boatboy to pack in his mouse box and take with him on a trip in a tall ship to anywhere maybe to nowhere / treegreen eggs sank deep in the wet wood for those who sit in the dark and hear sad strings who see the red kite fly in the sun and who know the way home / darkgreen eggs on a pothook for the last one shut in the dark house with her foxhead on in her mother’s red ballgown her cat on a string she is lit from within / flygreen eggs for the fast ones who run high on the beat and the trip of it all who kick at the fear and bite away shame and come to bed last with their makeup on / the last green eggs in a net too high like a trick or a game to mess with our mind so make a good wish and shake at the tree we can let them fly we can see them fall these are the last green eggs of all