I kicked the smoking habit

burning nun

in favor of

breathing fire
 
 
take a dragon this

and my mouth tastes

très ashy

now, but it’s better than Gaulois…

ditched contacts for

horn-rimmed windows

to frame my face

panoramically—

–which wood

look silly–

(you’d think)

except I gave my

knows

the day off

just a temp job, anyway

planting couch potatoes

the way my garden grows

and strapped

Lazy Boys to my soles,

that way I can relax

~on the go~

©Karen Robiscoe

 

YOLO, MOFO

& since spirituality

is the true religion

I need you to share if you agree…
 

Agree that

1 share = 1 LIKE

for the fight against:

ignorance,

hypocrisy,

oppression,

ALL CAPS,

&

Big Brother,

and brother, you are some kind of commie if you don’t.

Only kidding

(JK!)

laugh out loud without smiling at all,

my friend

(?)

keeping in mind

“you should be writing!”

and that:

“books are for reading–not faces”

*said no one ever *

and that only in Norway

can you attend college free of charge

Yet only in America

is chocolate actually a salad

(meme for meme, a better trade-off)

Whereas only in the World

does its most exciting man abstain from drinking, occasionally

but when he does imbibe

–when he does–

shit howdy,

!

Let’s just say, he shouldn’t be on facebook

he never clicks on even one cancer survivor’s story

not one!

proving what an a**hole he well & truly is

…when he is, of course, being an a**hole….
 

 
wireless wizard

Clicks

ruby red cursors

3x.

Beginning, middle, end.

The left

–2x.
 
 

And right for once…

Believing

the force

was

inside

her all along

she runs shell games

forgetting Kansas…

second-site

revealing there never was

a place like home…

In house

~with widow’s walk~

In attic

–damp and dusty–

dead but alive

–seeking but lost–

I lifted ancient blinds,

and found a barred window…

painted shut and caked

with years-thick dust,

and though allergic

to work

(and dust)

I sawed at the bars

with emery boards

—day into night

and perpetual next—

until time ended

relatively,

and I broke through

I knew not where–

–cutting iron

unexpectedly

effectively.

Scraping layers

of grime from glass,

I rendered the

pain

crystal clear

chiseling at coated sill

—end to end—

to jimmy-wide the window,

to revel in possibility,

to flex my limits,

and sticking my neck out,

I felt only the

rain

until

I pulled back inside.

(behind polarized glass)

foiled the wrong way,

dividing the whole

into unlikely quadrants

–reflecting only

partitions of others–

in chaotic mosaic,

and I realized I was

all wet.

She was a hip chick,

and knew when to get her groove on,

knew when (patchouli) smoke was

–in-a-cense–

just smoke,

and knew when to keep

the lava lamp burning.

 
Cookie & Breadstick got together

at start and stop dinner
 
 
and lived well-off Divinity for a while

it’s very rich

and everything crumby

until things got stale,

and Breadstick went to hell…

he needed the heat to stay hard

Cookie getting all Betty Crocker with a need to conform…

becoming a secret Cutter

who never dared to use Sprinkles,

Or Icing,

Or even Powdered Sugar,

without Stick’s go ahead, who

mean-time

morphed into the Doughboy

Burying Pills in his breadbasket to get through dinner

while Cookie Cutter hit the sauce pretty hard,

mixing up rum balls

(to cover)

burning Pan several times in the process

–and most associated utensils–

and it was inevitable that both glutens eventually batched out,

retiring to the shelves of the Big 4 store from which Breadstick and Cookie Cutter hailed, to await the return to

the Baker

–the real Baker—

all sixes & sevens & sum

13’s.