What joy, what joy
You in my company, the beer drinking poodle dog. Devil Snail to a tee. Drink the beer in the ground, in the sky, in the shoe factory, in the space plane, in the pencil mill is where we're at.
I wanna hear you spit your words, three hundred a minute. Faster than Run DMC, smoother than a fudge brownie. Here we go, beer drinking Devil Snail poodle on the decks. Way to go.
Now it's my turn on the mic. Get ready to rumble. Pass me a beer, Jimmy Boom Semtex is on the mic. Let's do it...
Excuse me while I Puke
I hear screams of virgins watching
their innocence being tortured.
I see flowers hiding in the shadows
covering their eyes with shame.
I smell the putrid odors,
fuming from the stench
of bush meat eating scavengers.
Forcing intimacy on cherubs and angels.
I see abused women and children,
giving up and dying because
no one is looking for them.
I saw the First Lady of indifference
at the mall caressing a Gucci collar
for her little poodle dog.
I heard that birds still sing
and flowers still bud.
Right now I cannot enjoy
their contrite delight.
My eyes are filled with blood.
Is there anymore-
Bizarreness to be Ignored
AS I puke.
https://www.facebook.com/bringbackourgirls/photos/a.218484111695963.1073741828.218477488363292/292667570944283/?type=1
If a poodle dog married a hound dog
Would their kids all be hoodles
Or would they all be pounds
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.