Tag Archives: ish

Ghetto Spa

noodle_o_oo
 
after Major meltdown,

the Principal problem

is General Chaos.

Figuring out 1 squared, Private setting, and convincing ducks to row, and

frankly, they’re not the best

oarsmen.

Their wheelhouse is impersonating weeping bovine on Snap Chat
 
 
(moo-wah)

I’ve heard, and

the squeeze on Colonel Mustard never helps, ‘cause

then there’s Poupon everything.

(Grey areas, you know?)

Still another

Chief concern

is playing ketchup

–ever tried to improv vinegar?

(no way!)

It’s plain awkward if someone’s bought the Ranch, and that’s disregarding the obvious entirely:

You need a knife to make it go over well,

and it’s Buddha bitter, and that’s

with sour grapes dba

wine.

(Yah…way!)

please imagine or perform pattycake gesture twixt chin & chest, and

insert appropriate punctuation & metric footies here

/——————————————————————————-/

(I’ll wait)

I’ll…sew, but hint that parentheses might be in order.

(ahem)

check out those stiches you’re in, and good to go-go boot is we?

(not a shoddy shoe for metric foot in tatted sock)

H-a-a-l-l-l writey.

It’s the specter of respect!

(not Phil)

ahh.

(boo, and bless me)

That’s the Crowning grace.

Enterprise

super meto get from here to there

you must travel.

no 2 ways about it, you’re

hitting bricks.

hitting bricks or

pounding pavement,

however you put it

you’re wearing out souls,
 
 

and thinking so, I

donned flip-flops

&

–tripped on road immediately

(not a mile from home)

& yeah, trip-tripped

trapped, like any silly goat gruff

–at bridge of ringing bells—

but took a dive, also

–mesmerized by roadkill—

(geese, mostly, still heading South)

and

traffic cones

(orange entirely, and so oddly positioned)

and dividing lines painted in no uncertain terms

the definition of which I wasn’t certain

(though commonplace)

and after  a peace I realized

what was

afoot

(besides feet)

by looking up

–and yeah, the terms in Merriam’s

an unabridged research spanning months

but up-up, also

(in the sky!)

noticing life up there lived yet

(it’s a goose!)

and there were fewer traffic cones, too

(it was plain!)

and absolutely no caped crusaders

(what the flock!)

and the tarmac which I traversed

was a runway!

(the terminal tipped me off)

and since I was running

any

way

I dialed it up

a Mach notch, and

lo unbeholden,

I took flight

(nothing fancy)

growing wings

(left in write)

realizing there

were 2 ways about it

after all

since

spirits

~spirits~

spirits–

–they soar.


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