It’s been a long time since Boom-Rang made an appearance. But he’s been lurking.

__________________

you’re a little flea,

flea is tiny already but you’re more little

spital and brittle I toss on that griddle,

no riddle you fiddle/widdle away your time.

No rhyme. 

Everybody in town knows you don’t have much worthwhile to say.   And by town I mean earth. you talk a lot but about a little.

Said I’d griddle you.

Speaking of cooking I cook.

I pack lunches in bunches.

If we were on Iron Chef I’d get bow after bow and you’d get booted off before the first commercial.   Judges are like “wow we’ve never had to do that” but no one feels bad.  Even your neighbors at the potluck wouldn’t eat your trash if it was the last Tupperware left.

I’m always over you

never under you,

you’re in the mud on your back

’cause my lines give that smack

you lack,

somebody get a sack

and sweep you up.

you’re dust.

A miniscule puny insignificant piece of dust.

So dust they used that sick lemon spray to wipe you up and even the spray was like ” daaamn what’d we do to deserve this?” And the counter cheers “yeaaah we don’t have to touch you anymore!”

Always find me winning that dot,

hard fought,

except for the fingers like Ronnie Lott

on spot watching you rot,

a barrel hitch knot

gets you bound and caught,

word onslaught

blast through all you got,

I know it’s a lot.

I’m good luck chuck. You just suck. Suck so bad lollipops at the check out aisle hiding so you don’t buy ’em.

See sticks and stones, linebackers and drones will break bones but words will never hurt me. But they will you.

you’re that board game no one wants to play because the directions are too long and you’re wrapped in plastic.  I’m Scrabble fool.

Learn up  I’m 100% authentic Boom-Rang,

you just fake Vera Wang

CK- CLANG- CLANG   pitiful.

Erased you out my face/space.

Boom-Rang.  Time.