No self respecting poem wants to hang with me. As I’m apt to slap that poesy into the ether too early, still gasping, and all agog at anxious afterthought alterations. A bespoke joke birthing an interior punch-line rhyme, way before delivery time. Because juncture is the jive. That toot sweet hive be honey. Muse money. Currency.
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Dear Snz
Dear Snz After our all day falderal of deck the halls, I quickly succumbed to a long winter’s…
Constative
Constative I don’t respond to your postYour hopes, dreams, your fearsI could careI respond to your other respondersTo…
The Post That Shouldn’t Have
The Post That Shouldn’t Have Today was the day that I was to be blog/post/site free…yea free… after,…
To Test A Feature
To Test A Feature Amended about an hour later. The feature I’m testing, which is theme specific, is…
Mouth Wedge
Mouth Wedge The golf hustler ghosted during the high heat of 83. His fiancé, having handed over some…
Midi Minor Slow
Midi Minor Slow Song writingThat’s a thingAnd I can do thingsSo Throw up a coupleOf Sus ChordsAnd top-line…