IN THE PAST OF YESTERDAY
I had nuts, yeah. I had lotsa
nuts. I was even better a trombonist
than not. Chivalry died that day.
Can I peruse your ambulance
if it means I get to play with
the siren? There is a town
where such things are permitted.
It is not for you or me to visit.
An angel, a basketball, a trapeze:
what do they have in common?
To win, one must have
a game plan. The plan is to wait. To
jump in air. The fire is higher.
One time I was coming home
from the office when I was
assaulted thrice. Every dowager
has a manager. It's sports time,
plenty of muffins for all. Decoders
came, cleaned us out. Fine drapes
seconded April storage folks.
Alaska! The furry friend
happened along to cry into
a sweetheart's bilious banter.
There was no porridge left. There
was no carrots left. He am left for
bridge over water; he gone!
Niceness precludes this. Say what?
I am pretty sure you're fibbing.
You're getting to know yourself!
What's that for? An elongated
Christmas elf "gone to pot"? Like
I said, nuthin' doin'. Like before,
a moose, like a veritable cheese
explainer. Was the harm like
sky always? Or have we
flabbier horizons? Nutritious though
that may be, I can think of less
in the way of us as throughout
the car-filled firmament
chimes spryly sigh. Acquit your-
self of time-ravaged batting
cages! It is like moving around
inside a moth. Really interesting
people frequent this broth.
Crimes against humanity? How
about to freak out when asked
about it: supper takes place
here, pandas say. Love is a
More later, then combs are
purchased. Riding around in
this memorable hovercraft
is where it's at. Eye level approaches,
but does not exceed legal
as all that, eh? Well, this'll show
you what happened when faced
with perfectly reasonable solutions
to batshit crazy propositions.
I was in the process of ordering
a salad on some bench when
there appeared to be a not
unfortunate gathering of yellow-
eyed creatures with huge leathery
wings and custom-made jackets.
It's not for you to divide them.
I was their president for a time.
Into the earth sank their fishy claws;
habits had mid-flight orgasms. Now
here's where it starts to get interesting:
Oops! out of time goodbye.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
With a smooth, practiced gesture Archibald reached into his jacket and pulled out a piece of paper, from which he proceeded to read aloud the following poem of his own composition: