Monday, January 09, 2006

So nobody thinks a pillow that says Heavy Petting Zone (H.P.Z.) is the least bit scary??

Well, it fucking terrified me. So bad that I haven't left the house in days.

Now you all have to sit through a poem.
A poem about shoes.

50 shoes
in the doorway of
25 ghostly feet

So tired of thinking pretty things
of talking butt sex-
Sick stalactite tunnel
loss of dreaming

25 ghostly feet
will lie and
say they're walking,
dancing
with Ganesh upon
your ribs
A glockenspiel

Hail
the ceremonial turnip-
Cast a bloody soup
and serve with lube
and saltene crackers

Collect the shoes!
And shimmy like a biped

25 ghostly feet
can't steal
50 shoes-
They're lacking pockets,
glockenspiel ribs
posted at 12:10 PM |