that she had always liked my scent,
had on occasion failed to wash
to gain a fair extension for her nose,
and then, when forty years had past
she stood there in the aisle to get
a jar of peanut butter, which was loathed
and shunned by me, back then. The speakers
in the store were playing soothingly,
the song that promised what she felt,
it was by Whitney and it made her cry,
those tears came swiftly, running down her cheeks,
she’d smelled the scent there, near the many jars.
what Gods have hinted at,that lifeless objects have a life) .The tap I know beganto notice that each daya dropp or two escapedwithout authorization.She was convinced, of course,and very rightly so,that it was of her substance,elixir of life that drained away.The tap, now filled with sadness,itself a strange affliction,which occupies the spacesleft by departing goodnessit…
by Haves and Have-Nots,I dwell, a cabin without shuttersand moods created by surpriseand mystery, in rags and free.Abandoned on an island oftranquility, envy of thosewho must exist, in crowdsalone, amidst the terror ofa frothy sea of deadly poison.Metropolis of gloom and doom.Smoke billows from the purpleand age-stained rooftiles,beneath which sighthe sounds and stenches ofa tea…
Maybe you’d join him in screaming and fartin’geezer with sprue and his spirits so low.None of his scheming and bribing effectivePalin, the dumbbell inciting the crowdboth standing still and their faces reflective,losers are losers, for crying out loud.Think of the windbag, she’d take ammunitionjust be prepared is her motto from school,reading he comicstrips, second editionpraising…
It was the little creature’s single coughthat turned the closest male into a grinner.Just as she tried to sneak awaywith hyoid bone and deli tongue,three lions ordered her to stayand then the oldest lion flunghyena and her bloody lootinto the hippo desert dome,the hippos found her rather cutealthough to them she was a gnome.They formed…
Let us praise all veneerand Sir Pooh Puppeteersays the fly, oh this cowpie attracts.I’m with teach in this matter, I saylet all poets come forward, they maypost whatever they likebut the thumb in the dykewill get tired just after midday.
So for every manuse deodorant BANit will knock out their huff and their puff.Is it power you want and you seek?Without might does your future look bleak?Just remember Benitoand that gnawer named TitoAnd I know of whatever I speak.It’s my dog who taught lessons to me,(it was whispered to him by a flea) .The most…
