Email Poem

Your IP Address: 3.17.129.242
Your Email Address:
To Email Address:
Subject
Personal Note:
Poem Title:
Poem
Who Beside This Atheist Doth "say" Thar Haint No Angels?

Two fatal head on
     deadly automobile accidents
     in quick succession at 
     Zieglerville, Pennsylvania 
     poetic traffic circle
     killed me twice today,
this communique notated, recorded,
     and transcribed adieu "say"

je nais sais quois eh
by divine angels, who aided
this deceased jay
bird, said winged
     saviors didst sashay
in mine close proximity, this lifeless
     badly damaged body
     sprawled on the road,

when just by the "FAKE"
     skin of my...er...dentures,
     I whiz invisibly
     whisked toward unearthly safety,
     and (just in the nick
     of time before corpse
     of mine thorough lay
underwent aught top say),

this generic organ
     donor and eBay
trader found himself shunted
     into an expansive
     cerebral, cerulean,
     and celestial heavenly
     gate atmospheric quay
king cosmic arena,

     where Cupids practiced play
ying getting strangers lovestruck
     when rehearsals debuted, yay
nearly finding this
     wordsmith spell bound
     yours truly with a may
zing starry eyed,
     and stir craze zee,

the first female
     (coincidentally, a head
     over heels teenage crush)
aye didst yip pee
mon decaying flesh
     felt WOWed, cuz she
never looked better re:
eternally sleeping with her

     stone face, prithee
one, where death be
     not proud did justice,
     yet rules forbid fraternizing
     with deceased, nee
     (repudiating no exceptions
     against gender bending
     strictures) amidst soul asylum,

     could witness punishment, nay
saying of guilty party landing
squarely into jailed
     into the absolute
     worst hellish clinker
     back to the future as
     joining every other
     mere mortal upon Earth,

     next best option offered
     aside from (undying soul
     reveling in immortality),
     would be fate offered,
     by Scott, sans the blimey
(hen pecking) road

     less traveled me
disappointing fate,
     where alternative possibility,
chosen minus collisions, and
     absent adolescent
     post mortem inamorata.
CAPTCHA Preview
Type the characters you see in the picture
Required