Poem

I have a little poem—it's not a poem, really, it's a saying, a true saying
If you can see the handwriting on the wall, you're in the toilet—that'll keep me off TV
Some good poetry in the world—what happened to Hemingway and Tennessee Williams, those fellas that wrote poetry?
When I was a kid in the school they were teaching us filth—"Little Boy Blue, come blow your horn"
Hey, you'll break your neck trying to blow your horn
"Well, well, well, my pussy fell in the well"—my brother was 15 when he got drowned looking for it
I'm one of triplets, three boys born 45 minutes apart. My dad came to the hospital, came upstairs to the maternity ward, looked in the window and saw his three boys laying there, he looked at my mother, he said, "Mary, you pick out the one you want 'cause I'ma drown them other two"—that's how I learned how to swim. I didn't mind the swim, it was getting out that bag full of cats