After seventy years
and a million cold beers
he took ill with a bad case of gout.
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Midnight had come,
I lay asleepin Dreamlandby Futon.The date was February,the seventh,counting dateline,to thus adjustfor overseasand older friends.We were, the twoof us, like onceupon a time thatsaw us both,as youngand strapping,we stood,me leaningon my father’smarble stone,he facing meand pointing,touching,prodding,with hisbutcher’s fingerinto my chest.And thus he spoke:‘It is the seven,that is my number’,to which,confusedI did reply:‘Is it the luckyone…
A solitary piece of yogget
in itself, together with its odour,it laid the groundwork toand led to the undoing ofthe one who had, without good reason,gone ’round the neighbourhood,at night and in the daylight,to kill and maim, and then to burnthe bodies in a private ceremony.It took but one detective, ready nowto take retirement tomorrow,to scratch his silver stubbles,inser his…
Napoleon did start the fad
enough to spend for soldier foodto keep them in the proper mood.He asked his chemists to inventan out for his predicament.The French eat butter and thick creamdrink wine, although this fact may seemto dummies that are reading thisthe antidote to human bliss.So, warriors who must risk their liveswhile worrying about young wivesthey want to eat…
There is so much debating
about the poets’ ratingand less about decorum.The ones that have no readersor fans of any kindsound just like heavy bleederswith one big axe to grind.The make those strange excusesabout what counts, what notimagine some great usesfor work that’s posted butand when they look at hitsand see much empty spacethey might just get the shitsand would…
A honeybee, (it was a she)
She had been told to fly aroundjust seven metres off the groundthat way she would detect the sourceof future honey, which of coursewas made from nectar by the beesthis is what made her ill at ease.You see, she tested positiveto allergies, ergo to livea life without the miseryshe could not be a honeybee.The queen however…
Early hours, at the square,
The condemned, his head shaved bare,with his priest and bible, proudly.There is the slimmest hope the judgewill ask the man once to repent.This morn’ however brings no suchhigh hopes to bear, it wasn’t meant.They pull the shiny chopper up,the basket waits below.And when the blade is at the topthey start the bloody show.They lay him…