It's like there's a couple of words running around in your head and you're not sure if it's a song that you heard or maybe something you've read and then the words in your head become flames on your tongue And you don't care anymore because they're your words and more and the more the flame the more the words came until you dried like the desert you are.
Apostrophes bother me.
Apostle come bother me
Opposites attract.
Even when dry When you feel you could die The water is words yet to come, Some swim in it Some drown in it I knit a gown and go out in it.
What is peculiar? If not then to fool you To make you superior? Inferior? A reject? When you're asking them, why me? And I detect irony
We'll all rust away one day, Plastic pins and hips and things Will be all that remain.
I like the words that stain the walls That rip through mansion halls to Crack the stucco on the ceilings,
'be careful', someone calls, But heaven falls on Angels and Their wings Someone else now sings the words that Once ran wildly through my mind And I don't mind at all.
I left my mittens in the Smokies. It was that night at Maddron Bald on the ridge After we'd hiked from Davenport Gap -- 12 miles, 4, 000 feet. The girl gave us icicles. Dazed and breathless, we pitched the tent And scrambled into our sleeping bags.
The morning sun felt good -- Sterling Ridge On our left, Cosby far below to the right; Mt. Guyot with its spruces and firs; Lunch at Tri-Corner Knob; then down through The rhododendrons and mud to McGhee Springs. Raven Fork -- the beech tree, the icy water, The boulders, the sunlight. Cabin Flats and Smokemont -- the rain, The people with pancakes.
Once not long ago In the vile state of Utah, An evil wizard Impregnated a feral cat with Mormon seed. In no time at all, A litter was born And all of them died But one– Mittens the Kitten.
Mittens grew up with a sense of entitlement Because the evil wizard filled his head With the Mormon scriptures. When Mittens would catch and kill a mouse, The evil wizard would pet Mittens With a vigor that was borderline Inappropriate. Mittens was bred to kill.
In the evenings, Mittens would enjoy a bowl of warm blood. Sometimes it would coagulate, But Mittens loved his blood. He lapped it up With a a vigor that was borderline Inappropriate. Mittens was bred to kill.
The evil wizard was a Harvard Business Grad, And since feline-humanoids were not accepted At Harvard School of Business, The evil wizard taught Mittens All that he knew. Mittens soaked up the knowledge With a vigor that was borderline Inappropriate. Mittens was bred to kill.
Some years went by and Mittens Became a successful business owner. He would lap up bowls of Other people's business With a vigor that was borderline Inappropriate. Mittens was bred to kill.
Fast forward to the present tense (My personal favorite tense) And Mittens is running for president. He uses his magical smirk to cloak his lies So that naive voters might believe that They should vote for this cat. He smirks and he lies With a vigor that is borderline Inappropriate. Mittens was bred to kill.
... Though with mild guilt I must attempt to say, they are for a good friend, A true one, Who lets me treat her bad and calls me the best, And I'd do so many things for, To make up for all my messes
... So I didn't buy seven dollar made by a broken sweatshop woman gloves, I went out for yarn and made my own, Cursing and spitting all the way, Because hey, friendship is cool, And I'll punch you if you look at her wrong. The broken lady doesnt know enough about her to do that.
