cardboard coffee cup

11 days, all wasted. Time with you always seems grand ‘til I swallow your steaming darkness.

spitting out the boiling mess quicker than I took it in, I always seem to forget the hardships that face your cardboard coffee cup.

Talented as you are I know you’d see if you looked, but then your english teacher catches you peeking then back with the dog you go.

You both seem to have it all together; the lean figure and dapper looks, ‘til the sides cave in from all of the steam coming from your ears- you and that cardboard coffee cup.

But it’s hard to realize that even that robust cup, firm with the grip of your hand will someday be pitched.

and with it all the thoughts in my mind and dreams that will never be. I do understand, and i’m sorry, you cardboard coffee cup.

ballad in c flat

your chain broke today.
but then it didnt surprise me cuz you flew
down that hill like pigs fly from the sound of a shotgun.

you were tryin to catch another glimpse of that Hungarian belly dance, i guess.
no brakes and a flat c is hard on us all, man-
but just made ms. taylor have a hard time gettin home on that big seat o' hers.

grab that apple from your f150 before he runs it over, thanks.

sick

nose red & swollen the only question i think to myself may be
"why do all these guys say 'a-choo'?"

why not "perry toto," just like that old donkey my lower hinge creeks-
time for some of that WD-40!

"take a pill" says Ashley but deep down she remembers that i never will,
only "a-choo" & fire throat.

when this is all over I may join a polka band called "fire throat."

-perry toto

OLD McDONALD LIED-

about that farm
when Betty Slinger went down there said he "got sold."

turns out chicken comes from conveyor belts- NOT EGGS!

then again mr. walton likes "every low price" so if that cow
tongue tastes & looks like a chicken, call it a hen, why not?

thanks for your early death trap, uniform guy.

-your pet

F-150

huge beast, that black monster.
he swallowed me into his empty shell not aware that snakes bite hard!

"fix my AC, my flat tire, this broken steering wheel," says he but
then forwards in gouging out my eyeballs & stealing my wallet.

hacking into my whole life as if it were some bank account;
that black monster.

it's 2am:

and i'm working on a new book!

freehand poetry, folks
mixed like a salad dressing
with a hint of fine art.

i will keep ya posted, thanks and nite.

-me

Back Muscles #5

rick James,

if that really is your name.

i'm tired of seeing back muscles & yours are no exception.

since now I have peace of mind i'll give ya a fair piece of my mind!

& what is up with your two 1st names; everybody is gonna think my name's Jimbo.

see you.

the sneering calf

why they always do it? if you knew once then maybe the
rest of this sphere may pat your tummy a few times.

nothin' being right is gonna kill a few off fast, man.
type letters to the world on a glowing screen, and thats all cool

BUT i don't see why youre bragging about your lasagna dude,
being that it molded near 2 years ago.

and yet you look at me like i'm that little round calf
you baked to waste- but really its just your sour milk

oh, SOUR MILK! why did it have to turn so quick?
a question that you know will be left unanswered.

why they always do it? if you knew once then maybe the
rest of this sphere may pat your tummy a few times.

matt lark for state rep

cant stress it anymore.
this guy is everything a state rep is and does
everything one of those guys should do!

and best- he gives out free hand fans that say 'lark' on 'em.

www.larkforstaterep.com

16 or 22

then suddenly a truck driver walks in the room with a chimney sweeper under his eyes & 


everybody says “hi matt or nate, or tom, dick or harry- whatever the hell your name is!” 


and he says “joe? the man that owns this place; i’m just a scientist. i ain’t got no name!”


so edgar allen poe comes outta the closet with the wife of laura bush & the spider creeps 


slowly down his chimney sweep. Everybody screams “TARANTULA!”


                            -me, 16 or 22.
                             WHO KNOWS THESE DAYS!?

Add caption

NEVER TRUST A WOOLLY MAMMOTH

8/1/12

"take your vitamins" said tommy's mommy before she threw sugar cubes in the ceiling fan &

passed out- unknowingly. she got drunk last saturday; mus ta drunk too much.

i can swear you man, being a border-line diabetic'll kill ya someday- but 'til then we can just forget about ron paul winnin' any election.

bob dylan for mayor, matt lark state rep, and oscar the grouch for commissioner!

we all know he's blind while "JACK THE RIPPER sits at the head of the chamber of commerce"


thanks,
mouse.

welcome

this is how it began, really though nobody believes us.

it really is poetry, ya know- just takes some gettin used to and sooner than later you all will
get the light bulb.

"huh?" says mr. fry but he knows symbolism in the back of his inflamed mind.

hope it suits you,
well or unwell (its up to you)

-me