Friday, April 24, 2020

Dust bitten, twice shy! Come to the social: a poem.


Come to the social:
Cheeseburger and Fries.

Come to the social,
dressed in casual style.

Come to the social,
with yo' made up eyes.

Come to the social,
where we gasp some then die.
 
I draw a parallel line,
between some obtuse lies;
I point to the path not taken,
and I'm lip synchin' like Francis Bacon.

M to the Izzat, Phenomenal:
blog lines stomping, his shirt is abominable!
Textin' Nora about my mood swings
headshrinker cuts me in half
counting my growth rings,
while the gallery laughs
and the prompter moves on to new things.



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