Litany By: Keaton Kerr (not really)

                      You are the silk and the velvet,

                       the brass pins and the honey.

                     You are the red nose on the clown

                   and the hush before the curtain rises.

                      You are the dog's sloppy tongue,

                    and the crust on my morning toast.

            Contrarily, you are not the deep moan of the trees,

                             the new bright name tag,

                 or the first rain that washes away the chalk.

             We both know you will never be the banana slug.

                   Thank God you're not the banana slug.

          I don't doubt you might be last chapter of a story,

                   perhaps even that new car smell,

                      I might lose my cool though

       if I discovered you were that confused rooster all along.

                      A casual glance will reveal in fact

             that you have never been the soft fuzz on the peach

         nor the nasty exchange between the client and the teller

                I'm sure it will come of no surprise to you,

                  that of all the plentiful choices available,

                            I am the trusty spare tire.

                 By chance, I'm also the elephant's lungs,

            as well as that sliver of sunshine through the clouds

             and the broken weathervane on the forgotten barn.

                   I'm also the finely wrapped photo album

                    and the tallest tree in the patch of grass

                 Just remember, I'm not the silk and the velvet.

                         You are the silk and the velvet.

                       Only you are the silk and the velvet.

  I suppose it's only fitting you're the brass pins and the honey as well