BP :: PJ12

#This is some bad poetry from a journal that has a pink bandana cover. It starts with a
#newspapaer clipping dated June 2, 1989.

Thoughts on Cups.

With fluid and ice
A bit of Angst

Vice lends credo to myth

Blood and wine should not
be spilled.

Lids and corks
or
Knives and forks

Are more fun left in place

“I set you clear”
My brother said that until I figured out his game, set before he got hoe from swim practice and started eating my candybars more slowly.

Where as cups always
tip at the same
rate

The lost of childhood love
is paid slowly
throught the teeth
much unlick how fluids
are rightly consumed.

Ventrally.

My hypocampus would fit in every cup I have ever seen; where as my pen would fit in very few.

Comfortably.

I will sip tea
until I must pee
then Asleep I shall be.