- Non-Erotic Poetry
- The Practice of Unsafe Sects
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Click hereThat clean fresh
is coming after me.
I hide in ancient
on-ramp mounds,
live on snowmobile burgers.
I’m so low on ammo,
I dream of the
Balsam of the Month Club
as I sleep
under a disc brake sky.
I search for ammo
and arrive at a junction
that stares cross-eyed at me.
Ten different types of electricity
manifest themselves as
a laterality test
that sounds like an
art deco version
of art nouveau.
- COMMENTS
sweet GA peachesabout 16 years agohere, and you gave me all this to work with ?
LOL, on a serious note, my how things have
changed. What we use to have to rent a u-haul to
carry, can now be carried in your front pocket.
NO... not genitals, LOL. I know what you were thinking,
I love the smile in you !
with love & peaches-
sGp
Anonymousalmost 17 years agoA great comment of the teeming insanity of modern life...
Anonymousover 17 years agoI’m so low on ammo,
I dream of the
Balsam of the Month Club
as I sleep
under a disc brake sky.
This poem is mentioned in New Poems Reviews. C.o.S.
