A second favo(u)rite poem to share with you

warty bliggens

the toad

Rob Halle
Wikimedia Commons

i met a toad

the other day by the name

of warty bliggens

he was sitting under

a toadstool

feeling contented

he explained that when the cosmos

was created

that toadstool was especially

planned for his personal

shelter from sun and rain

thought out and prepared

for him

do not tell me

said warty bliggens

that there is not a purpose

in the universe

the thought is blasphemy

a little more
conversation revealed
that warty bliggens
considers himself to be
the center of the said
universe
the earth exists
to grow toadstools for him to sit under
the sun to give him light
by day and the moon

Wikimedia Commons

and wheeling constellations

to make beautiful
the night for the sake of
warty bliggens

to what act of yours
do you impute
this interest on the part
of the creator
of the universe
i asked him
why is it that you
are so greatly favored

ask rather

said warty bliggens

what the universe

has done to deserve me

if i were a 

human being i would 

not laugh 

too complacently 

at poor warty bliggins 

for similar 

absurdities 

have only too often 

lodged in the crinkles 

of the human cerebrum 

by Archy,
a vers libre bard who would enjoy our imaginary garden

from the book Archy & Mehitabel

by Don Marquis (1878-1937)

Probably Don Marquis's most famous character, Archy is said, by his author, to have been a vers libre bard whose soul, when he died, transmigrated into the body of a cockroach.
This made it very difficult for the poet to write his free verse, which he had to do by using the author's typewriter at night. He would climb up onto the typewriter and jump down, head first, onto the letter he wanted, then climb back up the typewriter and repeat the process.
I have chosen this poem from the book Archy and Mehitabel because it first makes me laugh, then gives me to reflect on purpose in the universe, the theory of transmigration, the indestructibility of cockroaches and, of course, those "similar absurdities...lodged in the crinkles of the human cerebrum."

Posted for my second contribution to the Favo(u)rite Poems series. Thanks, Toads, it's been fun, and if you think I might have posted this same poem on a Monday a couple of years ago, you're probably right. The operative word for this series is favo(u)rite. —Kay