Looking at the stars from quite afar,
I lounge in my PJs and count the work days,
And hope to grace I don’t lose my face,
Following rockets into outer space.
Can you embrace the logic?
Or have I lost my locket?
Coasting across the Indian Ocean,
I feel myself reflex to the bubbling potion.
Is there an answer, or an ending,
To this notion?
Today I jumped up on a ray of sunshine and surfed across outer space into another galaxy where I found two furry green creatures who drove a spaceship with their noses.
In the evening, the salt and pepper of the day settles down to season my memories of all that has happened.
Floating down a river on an inner tube, my teeth came out and fell to the bottom.
Bellbottom blues bellow bluesfully down the street at the Bradfordville Blues Club.
Coast linger run tango toothpaste eve
Weave orchestra slipshod maneuver
Cute villa bolero sticky reference up
Pool drink sweet bell bop contagious
Quandary small wander glitz stupid
Tune apple boost slots guess plastic
Theory weeds bed Greece trial orbit
Preference gift having deplorable the
Ruby frosted goat Teflon inebriated
Key vantage trip language reparation
Ochre sail soot any walk realistic not
Read future stalactite movie nihilistic
Pine cream hatchet jack-in-the-box on
Prim somber twist hand graft kin far
Spoil big rift honey very junta perm
Bah la la la. New ladle quote balance
Sofa watch kid oval tantrum order ox
Pipsqueak demolish similitude render
Plausible entry carnivorous container
Clavicle smear swat smell rot menial
Summer bird, sing your song.
Tweedle-eet-deet, fly up and up,
To your nest in the tree.
Feed your babies from your beak.
Watch for shadows of preying hawks.
Watch for squirrels, thieves of food.
Winter bird, what will you do,
When there’s nothing to eat
Not far from home?
Winter bird, do you rise early,
To dig in the ground
For a crawling worm?
Something small, something good.
Something precious in the woods.
Mark slow oven blank wanton bleach
Create belief well damn steep album
Urine capsize leaves require cannot
Pizza deep annihilate quiet stop open
Cling strike in where lavender knack
Rain coming down on my head, runs
Down my nose, then onto my shoes.
Lovely day for a walk, he, he. Wonder
If there is any sanity in a Quaker
Parrot’s scream. Not so, it seems. By
The way, is there anything clean
About a bloody nose? My sinuses are
Dried out from the Claritin I take to
Stop the running. But there is a storm
Brewing. The rain falls, and steam
Rises from the asphalt. Oh, to take a
Scoop! My eyes are sore. Not much.
Cackle gulp sneeze he, he, he. Listen
To my aching, rattling my cage oh so
Impatiently. My anxiety boils to a
Peak, overflowing onto my chair. My
Body shakes until it hangs in distress.
The calling wolves in the distance
Echoes from outside the door. So
Dark, it seems. It’s just you and me.
Me, with my nightmares and
Haunting memories. You, with your
Mirror, checking for anything out of
Place. We are quite the company for
Each other. Sin babbles like a brook.
I am quite the harbinger of bad news.
If only there was a solution for my
Emptiness and headaches. Try a hat
On for size. It squeezes the scalp,
Traps heat, leaves a red mark on the
Forehead and hair sticking up. Such a
Waste. So many tears in your jar.
Stumbling along the sidewalk 