Thursday, November 24, 2011


A meaningful conversation
Subdued the huge Toys “R” Us question mark
Standing sun-bleached and sprinkler-dirtied
In our flowerbed

On the patio
Explode your fanny pack,
A clinking most dangerous

The Mysterious:
Its neglect of personal care,
Out of bed-crazed

But sweet, Victorian GPS – it sounds when guiding us
Like singing in the shower.
For it sounds like a wet navel,

Pinching bubblewrap its circuitry
Reacts like amoeba androids' collective face-

Greasy on the fingers of the mind
Of the Lost Stomach:
It cannibalizes Muppets
When nauseous the stomach wears
its plush murder jacket 
Crowds make each individual of which it
consists nauseous

Accessibility of the sun's black glow
Like their innermost secret's door:
Toasters both hairy and hairless beneath the cognitive paper parachute

Man, shoppers make me miserable

No comments:

Post a Comment

Search This Blog