Barbi Dolled

Swirling temper of “Held Review” touching the task of tacking-up to puke, a choral respond to adore the work ask any hymnal of five star abrupts!!  I tailor the cobbler as clogs burst a slack, no value to pop on the flip in on sought, hatred of broom swept clean the callous as warts are sunk to crisp clearings valance. Stride, like a lion, be a tiger for spool, on thread needle spindle remind the Organist steer, plugs on the pole of May in a stump, round the clause litter to lip of that smear.

Tongues split spit as drool an burr verse, scrabble to scandal the leaper on kale.  Branch chord a pick to Gibson’s guitar, lurid each spy to the crawling inch webs dust stranded.  Mach well speed interjection to advance pits in the shroud, a vain object that subjects the flee`d.  Gallop with Sibyl change lanes operatic, trust is a price that the bull danced at tripe.

Written July 29^th, 2012

Interestingly I know about these things I will not tout.  All I've written, all I've seen, discretion rules the roost.  I am a Chicken of nothing good: In this Hen House too?  Strike a tune, play a piece, settlement is near.

Claim a game, make it name, so that you’re not confused.  For in this land of no-man I find so many fools.  Yell and scream, don’t complain you make-up all, you’re blue.  I should be more like I’m not and feel compassion: I muse.

After much entanglement I cast out on the News, just a little bit of bait so they won’t bite you.  So much sooner, it’s too late to stop the moving tide of life; I stop to take a note.

To Self,

     Blaming the other guy, oh wait, I am—no—It is what it is, just know.  Signing only general things I need to do one piece.  Upon my instrument I write I do not know self-hate.  Bravo, applause, I stand with only me.  Thankful for my begin, I know I will not no an end, for in this thought, I’m broke.  Not in wealth of the mind it seems to be teaming fine.  I’d say, I’d hope for a blind, a guise, this is no joke.  A sin to think things through?  I don’t believe in you.  An offer never made, just a bunch of threats, read what’s on that……..bored!

     What a proposition.  Not a likely; bye.  I look to no avail ‘cause I just sailed by.  Just checked it out to let what steps to tune’s of shit. Nature heard that you sin then wash your hands down here.  I’d say to go or move yourself, but, don’t bother me or self, because “I” just have to swear to say, that death has opened hear.