Chunken Funkel #5
jump through giant decorative chain once worn round deduce ankle of a giant Doing that is to be a sign of hamster irk mumbling what follows absurd postures no one laughs
milk an obsolete/old-fashioned cow pour milk into bucket made from letters onto untitled frequent reports of work of secret society even though the cow specifically ordered me POST IT TO THE YEAR THE LORD WAS BORN! kicked away kicks don’t hurt a bit
pass security guards so mad they turn brown write share critical explanatory notes about my demon-like hairs on my nape don’t even notice me sneaking away or notice I’ve taken without their permission their chocolate bars I lose all
hiding in the busy video arcade take hold by conquest one square section of the arcade territory half an hour hire a down & out game player to add wood to big ring-shaped pergola fired angrily the arrogant argumentative cleaner I hired to build pergola with buckets stored away in secret closet not for the reason I’m afraid it’ll be taken over by a challenger some of the gamers were coughing lethal infectious disease of sheep & cattle very disappointing end to the activity
hallway fire escape the judge of everything in a mahogany robe skimming with a patch of a in high spirits jack-o'-lantern grasping a long celery stick smacking the stomach of a tall hairy oaf because he sheds too much hair oaf like the Abdominal Snowman who wants to be an aeroplane pilot he’s got the strength of a wafer biscuit but all he got was a dimple problem
ride a log made from protein made in blood kills bacteria to a long carpeted seat jump off onto it about to spray to log open hostility bubbling for a permanent sum to be paid at specified intervals over a time it shoots away left embarrassed stupid ugly feeling declare formally with no contract my & the log’s time together to be invalid!
the hula-hoop for mice earrings hard gossiper on a treadmill by the drinking tap she thinks she owns the right to frown hard at the coy waiting in line a slurp for one dollar the lanky smooth surfboard knows the cure the big secret to help her tight fitting costume spurs her to want to help the coy that make her angry even in the shower not be coy anymore no more stab stab stab she’s waiting for the $$ so she can bottle it for properly for mass consumption
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
