Archive | VERSE RSS feed for this section

Baking Soda’ll Fix That

I boarded

flight of fancy

to find

my ticket was in

coach…

and unable to

fly to

castle

in air

the grounding

failed to

deter me

–switching back

I discovered

an alternate route

–requiring new

and sturdy shoe

I scaled the underside

of stare-well

(to Zeppelin)

and jumped–

–faith intact.

Upper Middle Lass

she was

agri’cultured

–all about enemy

turf,

and bad geography,

she was

spit-polished

–extending pinkie

after Bronx raspberry,

and any seeded shell,

she seemed

refined

–like high fructose

corn syrup,

and motor oil–

viscous,

but

necessary.

Go To


I pour myself

a big Think

–a double entendre
 
 

to compliment the

nuance

of complex

Mood

steaming before me…

After race,

Every bite

goes unwasted, and

I opt for funk

(instead)

an especially tall

order, and

one I thought

those that fate

forgot…

Weary-eyed, and floating,

welted ice against glass

—winks

a

visual?

that suits

to the

letter.

Water

She walked.

Strewing seed

–she grew birds.

Tending thought

–she sowed peace.

Fencing cars

–she foiled order.

Planting rows

–she discovered path.

Cutting cord

–dream branched.

Butt’ is it Art

No, but getting warmer!!

Emerging from

decades long

cocoon,

Butter ripped anticipated

wings

–on unanticipated observer

and

Tattered,

Battered

–a forcibly excreted

bi-product—

Butter couldn’t fly

Bits of purgatoried past

sticking to

velvet,

and brand new hell, besides,

Butter couldn’t

even be

a drone.

Fluttering,

Flapping,

Butter tried

taking off…

over

&

over

&

over

–realizing

(too late)

it was

over.

Over for Butter,

Butter melted down

–a stain where

promise once dwelt…

–a greasespot

before

her time.

 

%d bloggers like this: