patent leather rain pelts morse code
on amber waves of multi-grain
and christmas geese guard easter goslings from black hawks
there’s a madman at the lake
throwing fishing line into emeralds,
singing to the willow weeping there
he’s looking for the 9am express to Never Never Land
but where’s the door, Alice? no. silly.
Alice doesn’t live there anymore. ask for Tink.
he’s the fool at the lake
mouthing god’s words…
and alarmed at cat calls in infant growls
everything is something else, he says
nothing needs to be what it is
he knows it.
the world is this… mixed nuts
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mornings
love this pf8!!
For the inspiration this morning, pf8. 🙂
Love it!!!
Just the kind of stuff I dig. 🙂
Rainy day…dream away…
I used to date Tink’s sister. Like Tink, she believes that everything is something else, and that nothing needs to be what it is.
She always told me the rain’s gonna wash away.
I believed it. I still do . . .
Tink’s sister always slept when it was raining. She should have been writing poetry instead.
Thanks, pfiore, I love this poem!
I came home and slept fitfully after work. Weird dreams that I remember vividly. No wild sex, but plenty of strange adventures. And the phone rang all day but when I called my grandmother and mother, neither had tried to reach me.
The problem is I am exhausted as if I slept none and now I have to go back to work. Blah.
but youtoobz doesn’t have it…..
i know you know it so pretend its playing & sing it in your head….
Teasing!
Sometimes…