148 Readings | 1 Rating
Fuck to the Twenty-First
When will I escape this lackluster den?
Thought upon thought begets nominal freedom
and mime I cannot blonde pom-pom phenoms.
A wren sings of apocalyptic Zen,
nods my lead head to him. Comedian
cosmic, stand up and laugh at my jokes some!
I’m unaccustomed to your idioms
and pens encourage man ad absurdum.
Marionette master, spirit quondam,
no success have I since scissors too high
to simplify your perverse theogeny
of grand weapons, undeserved diadems.
Bothering me much this too-tight necktie
closing the door to future progeny!
Thought upon thought begets nominal freedom
and mime I cannot blonde pom-pom phenoms.
A wren sings of apocalyptic Zen,
nods my lead head to him. Comedian
cosmic, stand up and laugh at my jokes some!
I’m unaccustomed to your idioms
and pens encourage man ad absurdum.
Marionette master, spirit quondam,
no success have I since scissors too high
to simplify your perverse theogeny
of grand weapons, undeserved diadems.
Bothering me much this too-tight necktie
closing the door to future progeny!
Posted 08/17/11
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