Mart Crashes
He flew through windows
He flew off bikes.
He flew from soft seats to hard rocks
On several flights.
He dared Doctor Death.
Poked him with a stick.
The bad doctor snatched it and
Rubbed off bark via poop shoot wick.
Ooh, that smarts!
The Bad Doctor’s sick.
But so’s nit wit.
For pushing shit.
To a calamatous culmination.
Thank you, friend.
Barry out.