12/21/2005

diarrhea entry

Sanctified oatmeal
mollified moonwalks
grunting pockets of pith
geranium joy and callous powder
liquor-store vermouth in a paper bag conceals more than addiction
(your fear of getting arrested)
it’s nearly Hogmanay
and I’m still not a Brit
he who smelt it, smelts shit
gamma mocha rays and raisinettes on buttery tubs of rice pudding
this is how we sell our sols-
tice
you who enjoy the short days
the sun’s rays don’t faze
but they’re underground and S.A.D
hooked on fluorescence and antidepressants

but we gab and gab and gab and SING!
And the bells for Christmas RING!

I don’t even own a scarf
Just typing for a larf
Metaphor for barf

I got a shiny new toy in the trunk
By the time it surfaces, covered in gunk
Got that cliché funk.

Me? Dressed in black.
Momma? Smiling through a heart attack.

I had 50 good memories today
Make it 51

I blinked approximately 2000 times.

This is still not sufficiently weird.
You people get spam-mail about lusty virgins teens and peppering your inbox
Yet you don’t bat an eye, right click and forget

But out on the street we all look the same
Shamed about our shameless brains
And the three-legged men and Lewinsky stains
“Oh god not that old chestnut,” I’m
boasting in an open foyer

Gotta find a way to end this ramble.
Thicket thorn, rose bramble
Semantic scramble.
Cannibal ramble
Hannibal the preamble?
Mammal. 32 chromosomes. Has cell phones. Reads in monotone. Make bad jokes, people groan...

Ok
Almost
Finished.
Now.

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