

Learn an instrument… seduce a lady.
I saw the morning dew betwixt thine thighs
As I removed my source of Grecian power
As if King Midas dared to touch the skies
Upon thy body fell a golden shower
Thy body’s temples, two church bells had rung
Upon thy chest, a row of pearls bestowed
The sun had set, thy set with wary hung
I thought, “How black a night and blue a lode.”
I said, “What light through yonder beaver breaks? It is the yeast.”
And now my belly’s yellow
My pole gives cause to storms and earthy quakes
But ‘tis not massive, I am no Othello
And when that final moment came to pass
Like Christ I came-a riding on an ass
Mitt Romney is a craven, out-of-touch, capitalist robot (and not the fun kind either) with an understanding and compassion for the working class sourced from brief, sweeping platitudes told to him by his staff just before having to meet one. He doesn’t give a shit about you…
I like the fact that Robert Frobisher decided to grace both sexes with the pleasure of his company.
I remember when I lost my mind
There was something so pleasant about that place
Even your emotions have an echo in so much space
And when you’re out there, without care
I was out of touch, but it wasn’t because I didn’t know enough
I just knew too much
“Everyone is ahead of us, except the people to the left of us.” …”What direction are you facing?” …”I’m facing the fucking map!!!”
(Conversations like this occur when I try explaining time zones and a little bit of geography. Makes perfect sense to me!)
And all the books you’ve read have been read by other people. And all the songs you’ve loved have been heard by other people. And that person that’s pretty to you is pretty to other people. And that if you looked at these facts when you were happy, you would feel great because you are describing ‘unity’.
We lose weeks like buttons, like pencils.
By Noil Klune