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MONDAY, JULY 04, 2011
 
THESE PASSIVE AGGRESSIVE PARANAS SWIM AROUND ME

WAITING...

TO EAT MY FEELINGS.

It doesn't intrigue me at all
the dawf heads seem to keep me busy.
I shoot them down and laugh-
at their shortness and golden hinies.

MY VAGINA IS UP FOR SALE

BEING THE FuNKIEST ANTIQUE AROUND..

AND WELL ASSURING TO BE TAKEN HOME.

I plan to let you down-
side ways
and a little to the left
so that you can hear me
through the velcro grape vine
that will unattach itself from your ear lobes
and will leave you feeling fuzzy and vulnerable.

I DONT KNOW WHAT THIS WORLD IS COMMING TO..

WITH MARSHMELLOW PUDDING

FRIED EGGS AT 2 IN THE MORNING

AND BUMSEX ON THE BEACH..

and when i think about it
my computer penetrates verbal warming
takes advantage of my junk
and satisfies me with wrist cutting ideas.

WHEN THOSE TECHNICAL DEVISES DECIDE TO TAKE OVER THE WORLD

...ILL BE THERE

WITH MY TEENAGE RIOT AND REALITY SURVIVOR TORCH

I'll rip off my vintage skirt
I'll show up in those leather pants..
that will crack you up like getting it
in the jugular
and ass
by a hippo.

I BUILT MY PROPERTY AND DANDELIONS AROUND A VOLCANO

AND ALL IT DOES IS MELT ME DOWN..

You trickster..
dont go jumping up behind me
breathing on my ear lobes
you sick sick leprechaun

GO BACK TO YOUR RAINBOW

KEEP MY GRASS ALONE

AND TAKE MY VAGINA WITH YOU!


Written and worded and spaced and capitalized, by Chawlie Fresh
Comments

Hogan

Hogan

Speechless, as usual.

I've thought of a genre for you: erotic surrealism, or surreal eroticism.

There's something freaky - in both senses: scary and kinky - about your poems. Beyond that I don't know what to say about it. But maybe that's better. Maybe I should just let work on my subconscious.



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