Free verse № 32752
The spleenless poet
On an unspecific weekday
in a not that trusted month
a child was born half media
with a name and brown bagged lunch
His ears were warped and wobbly
and his mouth was full of teeth
On his belly was no button
As his hair was combed and greased
He spoke in pure heiroglyphics
With a wrist bend and pinache
They taught him that in art school
just watch this monster mash
He is a photoshop crusader
with a visor, lance, and plume
manufacturing girl scout cookies
upon his glittered loom
His friends were a dimed baker's dozen
and they swore to god he was greater
Since he could stretch a canvass with his bum
while remaining a shoe horned fornicator
Now you might be asking yourself
What sweet jesus could it all mean?
It really only boils down to this
There's no poetry, with no spleen.
11 comments
They're better than the crap you write!
(That means all of you fuckwits)
Ornella, unfortunately - you are an idiot. That is the last compliment I will give you. Feel free to send what you need to send back to me to feel better. I can take it. I probably wont read it. Actually, I will print a copy of it and hang it on my bathroom wall. You must realize the world your in. In my highschool, the whole drama dept was running about squidaling the sqidalies. Do you think we have grown older or younger since then. Your not in Kansas anymore, Dorothy. Why not run on down to Leto's hous; maybe he'll let you hold his cum if you pay him enough to look in the same direction. If not I have a few pennies and I will also wish you luck in NC community theatre...or the church choir if the audition doesn't work out... licks - and good luck in your race for the Salibury Conservative pie bake. Say hi to tipper Gore for me. By the way, Navarro's not gay, he's a bisexual that perfers guys.
Log in to add a comment.