Fiction, comedy, music, pop-culture musings, and other awesome nonsense from a disembodied head floating in the ether...
Monday, February 17, 2020
Writer's Block: Bad Poetry for the Win
Bloomberg
Mike,
You can ban soda
And frisk minorities
But you can't take the fat outta me,
Nor can you buy my vote.
You and Trump
Can run off together
And leave the rest of us alone.
If you're the nominee,
The whole house that is America
Will go down in incandescent flames.
Nothing screams change
Like several billion dollars in the pocket.
Plutocracy, here we come.
Baby #2
Oso, you are a little beast
One that rolls around on the floor
Your leg kicks are tremendous
Little hammers pounding the earth
Like the hammers of Hephaestus
Winter Time
The earth is not as frozen as it should be
Little leaves pierce the frost
Mud pools and boots slip
A ladder falls in the orchard
The bones of trees crash through the line
Coffee
Drink me outta me
You bitter broth
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