Robin EggsA Poem by Kenneth The Poet
red robin ice cream eggs
made from pig parts and broken dreams of wayward children of our depravity and our lucidity combined we are incomplete quadratic forms yearning for an ease, a completion unattainable with the methods of analysis in our current repertoire we are the piss in the plastic pop bottle that drenches the face of the public service worker when his lawn tractor catches it as he cleans the highway ditch we are the dog s**t that stains the rubber sole of the deity's sneaker heel that can never be scratched off, the smell never fades away mentally depraved, socially stunted, all awkward of course, totally separated from the dictator that created us from lower life forms robin eggs caught in a cowbird's game of mailbox baseball. © 2011 Kenneth The PoetReviews
|
Stats
91 Views
3 Reviews Shelved in 1 Library
Added on November 12, 2011Last Updated on November 12, 2011 AuthorKenneth The PoetBismarck, NDAboutKenneth The Poet is an optimist wrapped in the candy shell of moroseness and cynicism. He lives between the two parallels marked 46 and 49, all while living in the state marked 39. He pretends that he.. more.. |

Flag Writing