All 2 entries tagged Poem
March 16, 2008
This is a hangover,
and I’m on edge.
If i fall it will be onto eggshells,
but you can’t make an omlette.
Turns out I flew off the pan handle
and into the fire.
October 19, 2005
ease is death when pain is past and vast.
I want explosions, excitement and visual orgasms.
A sweet with tons of nutrition,
a work of art is my only ambition.
Not wanting to be a patriarch
I let my offspring roam free,
I can learn more from them
than they can from me.