Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Tuesday Poem

In an effort to establish
a vapid trill effect, like what
a monster drawing does on a chalkboard,
I looped out the distillation of campers
who all seem intent on mood swings
and the general "flow" of stabbings.
Feeling good? Feeling great?
You are doing a hell of a job
in the basement one time you
made a scene like a manager or some
baby blob going all haywire
with a sappy movie soundtrack.
I love you and your hit and run
shopping cart. You make all the effort
worth the gains. I'm going to Kansas City.
I'm sorry but I can take you there.
Sorry we're close. No, I'm sorry there's
something in the soup to nuts. My nest
is clean. I have an outboard motor and a thrust
mechanism that burns clean like the environment.
Won't you let me in on just one of your secrets?

1 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Reverend's singing I think it's for the feeling -- KC okay let's

8:42 PM  

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