some tear-dwops for Athena, now off Highway 45

by jiffylube

Posted to Poetry on 2003-08-09 10:46:00

Parent message is 498696


She possessed a devised impatience,
a dark pale echo under her nose,
and I despair despite the swish.

The most simple riffs,
hostess with the mostess,
are the most mercurial.

Something pulls, something pushes,
Something like your DNS server,
Something wicked this way rants
unborn from my colon,

That shuttered shack where sounds
Of tools bounce like thunder
From the mountains of Zeus, man.

Are you his daughter?
I seen that tool belt if not the wardrobe:
You remind me of my mama!

I see the plastic weaponry
In the details of Dixie!

Lens and beauty. Lock, Stock and Barrel.
Lace and lattitude. Lance and distance.
And A Dark Flower that Shudders:

Tonight at the Holiday Inn in Athens, Geor-Gah

Too delicate to display anything
but limp

I possess a magical body built
From all of the sweet-tarts I could find.
It’s less than one might think.
I’m the son of some hick without a spare,
Finger now lend me a tool and
Shamelessly I ask for the 9/16;
Please search among the chest
Work to find not that woolsworth crap!

But to defile Mr. Courage among the raw parks,
to sail beyond the sunset, to go boldly, uh boldly go, where no swamp okie has gone bee-fo!

To ignite this pencil into flame.

The Literary Kicks message boards were active from 2001 to 2004.