9nintyfive5
9NINtyFIVE5
9NINtyFIVE5
CharlaXFabels
CharlaX
Eye the fabulist fabelist maker of dreams for ewe still remember the poem eye
wrote where eye mentioned the fact that eye think they are liners for birdcages
the most that people have been to me is nice there was a few Christians who
liked some of my poetry for JESUS. This is not a fable in the puerile sense of the
word. BUT this ewe is a giant dandylion poem eye make them bleed eye scritch
and scratch them and twist the ending oblong into infinity. Eye feel a need to
defend myself to my detractors after all even CharlaX had a mother. It was more
than that a family eye had a place to eat a room to sleep. An important man is
never needed until the end too late to make the needed differences. Pomp and
pestle pistle listed they sent my picture eye won a contest all they wanted was for
me to buy a lot of plaque. FlaX and cotton homespun medley lay upon the
CharlaX belly nice long drinks in the afternoon writing a poem making a fabel
swan it leans this way and that way falling to pieces and parts of words become
gentle rain long dripping drops of waterial motion lapping at shadows of love.
Fancy markings of worded pleasures for years of estranger in the wooded glen
fords and glen glens. The caterpillar tracks in the proper syntax is a Diatribe.
Nominal feeds paid out and lost in space with gasses let loose that rival skunks
in size and areal width the size of that thing just look Ethel the size of that thing in
centimeters all alone would equal the lower belt of corn in the Midwestern state
of Iowa they called CharlaX to come he wielded his Hermann Maurice axe phone
and refused to budget a car rental he does not hitch hike anymore he walks back
and forth from one glorious day into the next of time come forth thou CharlaX from
the grave concerns of formidable returns on investments given in earnest
anticipations of reaped rewarded inclinations please come to Kansas and chop
the wheat down with your western ax make bread for all the millions of the crew.
The penny tossed in air so heated by debated frenzy of the sharkless few was
tails a lucky brake for yew.
Copyright © Charles Hice | Year Posted 2008
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