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Rock Is My Name


Rock
is my
name

Rock is my name and I’m hard to the touch,
the bigger I am, the harder I am
to move. I get pushed up
hill every day by some guy named Sisyphus
and when he reaches the top, I roll back down
so he can start all over again. I can
form you a cave, a shelter, or fence,
you can use me to throw or skim lakes.
Paint me but don’t expect me to speak,
I can get worn away over years.
I’m on surface, underwater, cliff faces and hills,
Mountains and streams,
sitting quietly.
I’m all over the Flintstones
and sometimes I rock out,
sometimes I am precious,
sometimes confused with a stone,
Rock is my name,
don’t come and bite me!

Now time for my anti-dada moment that I share with all my named friends…
This is the T-shirt and Hoodie I wear, the poster I see on my wall:

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