Friday, December 13, 2002

 

Am I Safe From The Heat Of Your Sun?


Am I safe from the heat of your sun as it melts the city
in which you live?

Quiet the moose as it it seems to prey on the Wasps
of Absolution. I fear the Waffles of the Apocalypse.
Are there no guest houses for tambourines in Rome
and the Netherlands. Where is Peter Pan? Where
is the the logic of the Camembert Moose?

Save the last dance for me as the tide is coming
into the dawn of creation. Never stop when you
can start a game of Parcheesi. This is not the
number ten. 12. Squeak like a mouse. Play
Scrabble with an octopus. Does every thing
seem ok to you? Come here little mouse.

Go away goose. Shhh! Oh is that what you
mean. It's a terrible thing. I see where I went
wrong. It is impossible. It is the King of Spain.
It is a contumely, a speck of dust on the scales
of life. Sometimes, it seems like a waste of
time.

Excelsior.


Comments: Post a Comment

Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]





<< Home

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?

Subscribe to Posts [Atom]