Litkicks Message Board Archive

Clip Clop Horses

Posted to Action Poetry




Horse made puke on the street corner.
Puke got mashed up by street carnival.
On street.
Carnival.
Puke.


Guilded tiger propelled by tsunami.
Smashing up barns and bones and babies.
Tiger.
Guilded.
Barns.




There were those who quaffed at the prophet.
And quaffing isn't easy.
To quaff is to know your body and your mind as a symbiotic fledgling union.




Breast milk for breakfast.

Crunchy tablecloth report.

The letters on the table. Ripped open like panties in passion. The contents spilling out.


Bills mostly.