Mellow bunnies on paper drugs. Nervous ears. Missing feet. The Watership is down. We're swimming toward missing islands.
Silly cadavers making ice cream sundaes out of embalming fluid. The sweet stench of death lingers. He fancies my speeches. Pointless diatribes in which evolution always wins and god always dies.
Delirium comes with many insights. Like the measure of the same. At quantum dimensions. Or the negative. Failing numbers coax the equation. Until finally it shits out cosine.
Anyone know where to find a good monkey replicator. I really need to find one. Now that all my monkeys have discarded their gospel in favor of Darwin. Ask me again after I've finished translating my vomit.
80 degrees too cold for humility. Paper drugs all flame. Footless rabbits hurry the altar. As the demons release the latches on the door. The island glances back, but we can't go there again.
Shivering in ugly little love songs. The socks still on her feet. Dirty glasses distort her vision. As she tests the light for the first time. In the bathroom. With the blood from her uterus. A parachute of red. Tries to save her.
But there are too many holes.
Monday
1/12/2009 12:38:00 AM
| Life Poems |