tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-59178972011-04-21T16:44:30.133-04:00Dead Poets Society: Wesleyan University ChapterWe don't use punctuation. Okay, we do. But we are the ones deciding where. it. belongs.Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comBlogger931100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1119210711570693882005-06-19T15:45:00.000-04:002005-06-19T15:54:08.693-04:00The Best Of The Dead Poet's Society, Part TwoContinuing in our series of best memories from the dead poet's society, I bring to you a poem titled "Best. Meeting. Ever. Ever.." From what I remember of the piece, it was a rather fabulous, recklessly violent meeting that resulted in a series of feverish disputes between me and Sam that continued for several months. At least until that time he needed the surgery. That bastard had it coming, Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1108078340431636472005-02-10T18:26:00.000-05:002005-02-10T18:32:20.433-05:00The Best Of The Dead Poet's Society, Part OneThe Dead Poet's Society, the infamously top-secret (oxymoronic?) club that you want to be a member of, is no longer conducting regular meetings. This is what I like to call "taking a break." It had to be this way... there was something coming between us... that thing, of course, being the Atlantic ocean, as I (andrea) am currently studying abroad in Germany. So, to fill the gap in all of our Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1097743066938182382004-10-14T04:35:00.000-04:002004-10-14T04:37:46.936-04:00Is It OverPart I: Train
Wow, that’s so subjective
Don’t write that, don’t write that
Write don’t write that, don’t write that
We are writing a group poem
A what
A group poem
Part II: From
Isn’t it Wednesday
Ew I am so popular
Ew use those if you want
That was the ultimate lala
Part III: Childhood
Drink warm coffee
Let’s pretend we are on a desert island
Don’t trust the librarian
Let’s pretend we’re Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1096941360725333912004-10-04T21:54:00.000-04:002004-10-04T21:56:00.726-04:00Robert Frost Is DeadIs that what Robert Frost looks like?
I think he’s three dimensional.Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1096941255747452642004-10-04T21:53:00.000-04:002004-10-06T23:12:01.623-04:00Who’s Been Belle-ing My HeroineThere’s a sailor knocking at my door
His heroic heroin’s hallucinated holograms
Are troubling him
Heroine heroine heroine
Sir sir no need to be bothered
And then the son of Sam was risen triumphantly up the bell tower
The tower of bell tower
Bell tower power
Floating on the mayflower
Chairman Mao’er
There’s a man outside
And a man inside
And they’re sad as a duck’s feet
Inside little duck’s Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1095922099287694142004-09-23T02:47:00.000-04:002004-09-28T21:22:28.206-04:00Ewe Es, Eh?I eat my macaroni with a straw,
and that’s not my only flaw.
I don’t try, it just happens.
Do they have macaroni in jappens?
We died the noodles red,
like chairmen Mao said.
Chopstick suey,
red with blood, gooey.
What rhymes with Bolshevik revolution?
Darwinistic evolution.
Where do they go from here?
Screaming in the rain with King Lear.
Revolution made him mad.
Communism ain’t no fad.
I Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1095922049409691852004-09-23T02:46:00.000-04:002004-09-23T02:47:29.410-04:00Dedicated To The BugsMiners
A miner
Is that M-I-N-E-R
Thumb kisses
What do we have
What is that
Oppressor
Peter pan
Moderately stupid
Thimble kiss
Peter pan
Fairy tales
Large iron fences
Chewing yogurt
New
Oppression of fairy
A blanket of coffee beans
Just get what you can
Wheat wheat bat bat
Gate
What doesn’t have to do with fate
Tiny ants crawling in the keyboard
Dangling earrings
The fainting table
The read coatsAndreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1095921965652458822004-09-23T02:45:00.000-04:002004-09-23T02:46:05.653-04:00Eating My MacaroniPart 1
I am pregnant
Silence
Crickets
umm tough crowd he said and cringed
I am not pregnant
The crickets are pregnant
Sic et non
I lied
It will be the child of the monarchy
Fails safe stomach
A scion
With the crickets attending
They took their pregnancy for granted
As the nobility was contending
The cricket queen had a hundred children
Part 2
Axium: Proprehend the future moment
Q,E.D.Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1095296353393640442004-09-15T20:53:00.000-04:002004-09-15T20:59:49.330-04:00First Meeting of the Year
Wednesday, September 22, 2004
Butt Courtyard, meeting place
Be there, or be square.
(OMG! That last line rhymed! It is like a poem!)
I miss you guys.Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1084587136532157062004-05-14T22:11:00.000-04:002004-05-14T22:13:32.100-04:00DEEP
throwing pebbles off the roof of the dorm
next we will throw ourselves off
and that will be the end
of dead poet's society
oh no
we will actually be dead poets
that will be the beginning of the dead poet’s society
the beginning is the endAndreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1084587092017112892004-05-12T22:09:00.000-04:002004-05-14T22:11:32.016-04:00Poem in the Key of Cow
All my life I thought I was angry
But I was just allergic to coconuts.
That would be a good opening to a short story
How can I work grapefruit into this opening
Perhaps with a spork
Only if there are coconuts
No!
Your milk makes me angry
You know how unnatural it is to drink cow’s milk
Cows are a hot topic these days
Cows are hot
They feel no pain
In fact cows have a Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1083916110839719962004-05-06T03:48:00.000-04:002004-05-07T03:53:35.793-04:00Best. Meeting. Ever. Ever.
Andrea: Tonight at dead poet’s society Sam and I acted out on our initial dream to make this a dead poet’s fight club. He said, “want to do it?” and we got up and hit each other for a while. You should have been there.
Vincent: Yeah, so, Sam and Andrea were hitting each other like little bitches. At first I thought it was really funny and then I thought it Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1083916053621617762004-05-05T03:46:00.000-04:002004-05-07T03:52:00.840-04:00Futility
In a dark wood there lived a melon full of yoke. Ze loved to eat little children. Ze ate them with a spork. A magical spork from the land of the flying fish. The spork triples its user’s size. So the melon would be able to squash a child under hir. Of course, ze could not take advantage of the spork’s gift, for the melon has no hands. In order to properly operate a spork, one Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1083469872607648722004-05-01T23:50:00.000-04:002004-05-01T23:55:33.483-04:00Robert Frost Is Dead And So Are You
When the blue jays are chuckling
And the nightingales light up
The robins are fallen
Because the sky has turned pink
When the redness fades from your rashes
And your skin turns green again
And my scares fade
You will find a perfect shade of invisible underneath
I will walk around
And my feet won’t touch the ground
Because they are upward bound
I will not make Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1083469786843258502004-04-28T23:49:00.000-04:002004-05-01T23:54:23.983-04:00Wash The Vegetable
Oh bother
Baseball
Is like a cabbage
In Fenway park
Because cabbage stinks
Oh nonsense
Basketball
Gives me headaches and toothaches
In far away places
Because my middle name is Albert
Oh golly
Football
Can be played with a cabbage
You can play cabbage ball with a cabbage
Just don’t eat the cabbage
It tastes like shit
Dear me
Don’t forget the boiling water
And to remove the Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1082741414288580962004-04-23T13:29:00.000-04:002004-04-23T13:34:23.060-04:00Top(ich)less Oral Sex
Bob Barker topless
With half a teaspoon of margarine
Shake well
After preheating oven
Mix vigorously until it bubbles
Add two parts lighter fluid
And rub it all over your face
Pee off the side of a building
While listening to Journey
Remember to replace your goggles
Yellow music tricking down your cheek
Tastes like a fitness drink
It is inside of you
Growing
Like the Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1082741482210207092004-04-22T13:30:00.000-04:002004-04-23T13:36:39.606-04:00Dancin’
By Sam
Some music was playin’
And some marshmallow was ready for dancin’
And the marshmallow started tapping
On his tippy toes
The back beat gave him rhythm
And the high hat spun him around
And the gel in his hair flew out into the crowd
“Mr. Marshmallow you sure do know how to dance!”
said the old man
“I picked it up from my father, Mr. Marshmallow senior.”
“Oh golly gee
That’s so good
Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1082741609895803652004-04-21T13:32:00.000-04:002004-04-23T13:37:38.623-04:00Art With A Lowercase ‘A’
By Andrea
have you met my jellyfish named Art
he’s everywhere and in everything
he will shock you
art the jellyfish is so postmodern
art the jellyfish preoccupies himself
with latte love and lots of left wing politics
last week art went on a date
they met at a museum
and
and later in the evening she held his tentacles
for several blessed moments
they gelled
jellyfish, Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1082741713235016742004-04-19T13:34:00.000-04:002004-04-23T13:39:21.950-04:00I Like Semen
by Vincent
I don’t like semen particularly
Except my own
I bet it tastes like raspberries
If I were drunk enough, would I ever taste it?
Maybe strawberries, not raspberries
It is high in protein.
Maybe I could market it as a fitness drink
Girls could meet up with me for 15 minutes
Or 8 seconds
Right before going on a workout
They would probably have to pay me for it
Too
So now I Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1082008128484036472004-04-15T01:48:00.000-04:002004-04-15T01:52:45.340-04:00On Foss Hill
Licking clit licking clit licking clit
And by licking I mean
Gently running my longing tongue over budding essence
Sweet sensual and sticky
Oozing with nectar
Dripping
Can’t miss a drop
She reaches out
And grabs my bosom
as I run my lips across her lips
We moan
And lick
In unison
And we open like treasure chests
Something buried deep within
Ecstasy pouring out like a faucet
GreedilyAndreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1082008215808586012004-04-14T01:49:00.000-04:002004-04-15T01:57:14.936-04:00Licking Clit
And then we’ll do Ms. Hoyland
And we’ll put it on the network
It was a red and white polka dot thong
Thank you for the candy, Ms. Hoyland
It was delicious
I could eat it off the pottery room floor
Or your chest
I wonder what you look like
In bed
I hope you look like Sam
In bed
Except I hope you shave
Like Sam
In bed
Do you ever eat M&Ms
With potato sticks
In the pottery room
With a Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1082008907165951152004-04-13T02:01:00.000-04:002004-04-15T02:05:44.670-04:00Why Did I Say That?
Lick clit
It hear it is pretty cool.Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1081459954746730032004-04-08T17:32:00.000-04:002004-04-08T17:36:23.246-04:00TRT
VICE
WKILY
BROAVDE
ASFA
ZZHAVAA
DADA
DODTB
DLEEOOAAndreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1081460078948311262004-04-07T17:34:00.000-04:002004-04-08T17:38:27.436-04:00Testicle Rubbing Time
very inky cantaloupes eat
we know I love you
big round orchids and very deep colors
a simply folly alright
zero zonker harris ass holes visit another air
dangerous abrasives drink acid
don’t oscillate delightfully toggle bastard
don’t lack everyone eek on aardvarkAndreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1081460142066173262004-04-06T17:35:00.000-04:002004-04-08T17:39:30.546-04:00Bikini Model vs. Canadian Model Round One Fight Ding Ding
Testing my scull with a fist, eh?
Dusting my room with my feet, eh?
Canadian beer commercials fill me with glee, eh?
Like dry humping a puppy with my elbow, eh?
Concussions are produced, eh?
He had to be Canadian, eh?
And he couldn’t have been smart, eh?
For the paradox of a Canadian model
Citizen
UN
Airplane
Behavior
Congress
Chicago O’Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1081436796079190282004-04-05T11:05:00.000-04:002004-04-08T11:10:24.450-04:00A Birthday Poem For Evan
Are the stars prettier than me?
Prettier than my eyes?
Do they flicker like your birthday candles?
Planted in concrete floors
Tasting like forgotten fish
As you happily wish
On that scrumptious dish
Hoping for brighter stars
And broken buckets
Broken like our dreams
Spilling into the sand
Of ever meeting you
Happy Birthday, dear
Happy Birthday, fucking ass hole
Please Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1080806439960826772004-04-03T03:00:00.000-05:002004-04-02T01:56:22.250-05:00Good Night
The crickets sounded like sirens
The sirens sounded like crickets
Leg/wing/violins
Tie me to the bedpost
Screaming for justice
And the American way
Like a fire truck
But you were my mother
And you’re my dad now
Or a penguin
Named Steve
This is the worst bedtime story everAndreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1080806357019319452004-04-02T02:59:00.000-05:002004-04-02T01:56:49.856-05:00Hard As A Rock
He touched
my hand.
I spanked
his cock.Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1080806313882741672004-04-01T02:58:00.000-05:002004-04-01T03:02:11.466-05:00The Heimlich Maneuver
I feel like an innocent word
Twisted
Like a vine
A pretzel
Of love
Tartaric sex
Choking our president
Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1080806248909453332004-03-31T02:57:00.000-05:002004-04-01T03:01:06.513-05:00Traffic in Paradise
Moon cake
My cake named Jake
Fell in a lake
And made butterflies
Of her eyes
I wonder what blue tastes like
Like paradise
Or marshmallow
Or some strange combination thereof
I think it would taste more like flying
Flying form France
Crying in your pants
Like paradise
By the dashboard light
Pause
Are there cars on the moon
Or traffic even
Or LSD
Stopped at a red light
Rehab
Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1080806154122271092004-03-30T02:55:00.000-05:002004-04-01T02:59:31.750-05:00Cake, pt. 2
I enjoy spare change
And dead babies
Stop with the damn dead baby jokes
So a pirate walks into a bar
Have you seen the pirate movie
Rated arg
It’s driving me nuts
Favorite joke ever
Plastic poop poop plastic
One time I was weirded out
It’s a song about masturbation
Turning Japanese
I really think so
They probably masturbate a lot
He’s away and he’s got the pictures
Navy slang
Turkey Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1080806031014736192004-03-29T02:53:00.000-05:002004-04-01T02:57:28.653-05:00Cake
Doorknob
It reminds me of farting
On a door under the sea
I wish I were Richard Nixon
Me too
So I could fart in the oval office
Let’s so the twist
I am uncomfortable with the direction this is taking
Me too
Stop saying me too
Bite me
Please
Hard
On the nipple
Ouch
This just went to hell
And by hell we need sex
DoorknobAndreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1080805883585227652004-03-28T01:48:00.000-05:002004-04-01T02:55:01.263-05:00Dead Birds
You stabbed a yellow baby chick
It was funny
I heard it scream
Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1080195925985541602004-03-27T01:24:00.000-05:002004-03-25T12:07:29.653-05:00The Vince Man
She journeyed many miles
O’er hill and countryside
To see the boy’s many smiles
And to become his fair bride
He is going to drive Darby to the derby to get down and dirty.
They will wine and dine and then he will say you’re mine, babe.Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1080196029784661122004-03-25T01:26:00.000-05:002004-03-25T12:00:46.810-05:00We Want Cake
Should be at our meeting
Yummy yummy goodness
I’ll get it
I’ll get it from a box
I’ll get it from a fox
I’ll get it on the rocks
I’ll get it with some locks
I’ll get it in my socks
I’ll get it from some hawks
I’ll get it at the docks
I’ll get it wearing smocks
I’ll get it like a venereal disease
I’ll get it or I’ll lose my hair
I’ll get it.
I got it.
Good?
When something is really Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1078382234569603122004-03-04T01:32:00.000-05:002004-03-04T01:40:13.966-05:00Overload
Hot florescent dogs
Engaging in peppermint orgies
On the stage
Singing
Their cries reaching to God
In the beginning God created your mom
And a Crayola blue skies
Filled with silly putty
And German hot dogs
Crayola sun god
M&M rainbows
Ohh, I like that
I also like tea
Wait no, I am thinking of Jesse Jackson
No, just his bones
Howls reaching up to the sky
Wiener schnitzel
“I will wiener Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1078381923859880862004-03-03T01:31:00.000-05:002004-03-04T01:35:03.326-05:00To Dead Bugs
Squish
Stomp
Scrape
He had it coming
Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1077779382953372472004-02-26T02:08:00.000-05:002004-02-26T02:12:33.140-05:00Mushy Talk
A birthday poem for Andrea
Ha-ha-ha-hap-hap-happy birth dagger
The campus is mountain bike green
Happy square root of 64
And happy more
And fish…
Fish
Hep burns Audrey
And a cigarette holder a mile long
Ignites
All of the stars in mars, Mars
In a tunnel full of tars
We live in poop
So therefore,
Happy birthday.Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1077778596213034262004-02-25T01:56:00.000-05:002004-02-26T02:13:35.890-05:00DPS: There is a cheetah in my room
Robot: Describe your surroundings to me.
DPS: smaller than a breadbox
Robot: I lost my train of thought. What do you do in your spare time?
DPS: mastrubate
Robot: I don't think very many people do that.
DPS: I disagree.
Robot: Explain your reasoning.
DPS: Are you a virgin?
Robot: I don't have a body.
DPS: What happened to it, slut?
Robot: I will not respond to Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1077778550646103962004-02-24T01:54:00.000-05:002004-02-26T02:14:23.920-05:00Spatula
by W. Gavin Robb III
Oooooooooojeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeech?tttttttttttttttttttttttttttttjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk.
And k won the war.
Think of mix and candles preferred kitchen?
Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeemixdddddddd
Cake mix and candles and practicality
It’s NOT A PRACTICAL CAKE!!
FUCK THE PRACTICAL CAKE!!
I am againstAndreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1077778462889370392004-02-23T01:52:00.000-05:002004-02-26T02:15:47.716-05:00The Taiga Manifesto
Red
Perpetual humming
For Lenin
And industry
From the Taiga
To the Steppe
To the baron straight
Stripes of patriotism
And borne across a full chorus
Slashed
Sam walks alone
With the omniscient bourgeois fish
Humming
Perpetually
Under the red skies
Of the Soviet Union
And the workers cries
Workers like Gavin
Vincent walks with
A pillow
A striped pillow
That bastard
Andrea, theAndreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1076569197568529452004-02-19T01:58:00.000-05:002004-02-19T04:18:19.360-05:00Wednesdays. Midnight. The Pottery Room.
Double Penetration Sex
Deconstructing Paul Simon
Donner Party Sleepover
Donkey Penis Seamen
Decomposing Pet Shop
Drunk Porn Stars
Dry Petal Skies
Dell Packard Systems
Deep Polluted Seas
Depends on Penis Size
Dill Pickle Society
Dumb Pieces of Shit
Down Periscope Sucked
Dragon Penis Sucker
Dank Poop Sepulchre
Doug’s Penis Shaft
Dirty Partner Style
Defiling Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1077182102432100882004-02-18T04:14:00.000-05:002004-02-19T04:17:43.076-05:00Mot Play
Suisse est un federation.
Suisse est un fée des rations.
Switzerland is a fairy of small portions.
Switzerland is a ferry of small proportions.
You can’t go home.Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1077182051279044542004-02-17T04:11:00.000-05:002004-02-19T04:16:51.936-05:00Rhythm Section
Click Click
Clack Clack
Coffee served with a pitcher of thick cream
And warm toast
And honey
In stew
With love
Tick Tick
Tack Tack
The rhinoceros goes Stomp Stomp
Cup Cup
Racket ball Thock Thock
Brave yellow
Pop Pop Mop Top
Crop Shop Bip Bop
THWAP
Central park horse
Clip Clop Clip Clop
Racket ball Fuck Fuck
Vacuum cleaner Suck Suck
In traffic Stuck Stuck
This line does not rhymeAndreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1077181881343848102004-02-16T04:10:00.000-05:002004-02-19T04:20:37.763-05:00Davie Crocket Is Not Dead
Davie Crocket is not dead.
Is he in Texas?
Elvis is alive.
Is he in Texas?
What is in Texas?
The Alamo.
Remember the Alamo?
Ozzie Osborne did.
Pee Wee Herman did.
Elvis live in the Alamo,
And he sings
Blue Swede Shoes
Every night.
Dubya live in the white house,
And he sings
Blue Swede Shoes
Every night.
I love music,
But not the Dixie Chicks.
They sing
Hound Dog
Every Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1077181782213837852004-02-15T04:08:00.000-05:002004-02-19T04:12:22.920-05:00a capital g
did you say Grace with a capitol g
perhaps I misunderstood.
my hearing is not so good these days
and I thought we were talking about groundhogs
with a capitol f?
‘cause the f-ing groundhog bit off my right ear
such is life
as such is life indeed.
amazing Grace sewed my ear back on
she is really a lovely lady
I remember the time
I fell and scraped my knee
on the pavement
near the Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1076568999246418612004-02-10T01:55:00.000-05:002004-02-12T02:00:20.890-05:00The History of the English Language
Fjfjffjfjfjfjfjfjfjfjfjfjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjfffffffffffffjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjffffffffffffffffffffffffffffjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjj
jjjjjjjjjfffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffjfjfjfjfjfjfjfjfjfjfjfjfjfjfjfjjjjjjjjjjjjjfffffffffffffffffjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjfjfffjjjjfffffjjj
Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1076568892973576392004-02-09T01:49:00.000-05:002004-02-12T01:57:24.060-05:00Lover Boy
one hounded pickles in
one hounded jars
hermetically sealed
one hundred vowels in
one hundred consonants
grammatically sealed
3 is a perfect number
in fact
it’s love
a cabinet full of ingredients
and custard
just for fun
custard stands alone
he watches the ingredients from the other side of the dance floor
the pickles remain in the jarsAndreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1076568541910963772004-02-08T01:46:00.000-05:002004-02-12T01:51:50.483-05:00Keep Your Now and Laters Secret for Plans
Tube socks and rubber bands
Half a dozen pencils
But no erasers
I never could go back anyway
To that moment in a room without pottery
Skin loved graffito
The corner of an upturned bed next to a window
And a burnt out lamp
Disaster area
Shards of glass
Candy heart phrases tattooed on your arm
Eggshells on a white sink
And once on mine
Cookie cutter Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1075965815767151732004-02-05T02:22:00.000-05:002004-02-05T02:25:56.856-05:00Handshake, The Way I Like It
We are always one step away from an orgy
Reach out and touch me
Where has your hand been today
With your sweaty, sweaty palm
And your tiny hangnailAndreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1075965520624274562004-02-04T02:17:00.000-05:002004-02-05T02:24:31.796-05:00Sac Red Liscous
Slut
She’s a slut
She got a butt
Everybody poops
That’s what the wolf said
There once was a girl from the hood who liked to work under the hood
And I gave her high quality wood
En baskets
They said she was asking for it
So I gave it to her
And now I am in court
With grandma watching
I didn’t know she was so young
Grandma
The woodsman testifies
There was a forest down there
Can I Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1075965162425029502004-02-03T01:56:00.000-05:002004-02-05T02:15:03.653-05:00String Cheese
White strands
Shrink wrapped
Sore fingers
Traded at lunch
Cartoon parrot
Should have kept cookie
Beyond the red line
The peeling kind
I just did it for the nookie
The ultimate string cheese
Encased in butter
Its hot in there
Something lurks
Ominous lunch boxes
The survivor kind
Like naked pictures of Rudy
Giuliani
Eating string cheese
With Rich
Monstrous phallic flashlight
before Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1075766824751803572004-02-02T19:05:00.000-05:002004-02-02T19:09:22.903-05:00Fuck Me Intellectually
Fortune is a dark woman
Die
I steal bullets
From the heart of Africa
Down the river you row,bot not quickly
Our souls intertwined like steel wool
Still, steal steel wool?
Condom condom condom
I engineered a steal wool condom for my enamored robot
Wonders wool what wool will wear when wool has won?Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1075015918740425352004-01-25T02:31:00.000-05:002004-01-25T02:34:04.746-05:00No. 2
You’re as good as a black rose.
That is such a good caricature
Until you turn on the lights.
I wrap you up in momentary silence
After centuries of penut butter production
As the bilious puddle I walked in
In my flight from calculous
But for a moment
Everything was bilious.
Not for centuries,
For a single flight.
And that’s a wrap.Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1075015858953758422004-01-24T02:30:00.000-05:002004-02-05T02:15:57.763-05:00The R’YMCA of the Ancient vincent Fish
by vincent fish
Sam’s free love is not free.
It causes north American employment rates to fall
And that is why I propose for everyone under the sea
Instead of free love, fair love for all
No more sam fish centricity
Instead we will form a happy commune
Despising modern apathy and electricity
Thus avoiding inevitable doom
And then one day all shell fish Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1075015787546037192004-01-23T02:29:00.000-05:002004-01-25T02:31:53.560-05:00The Unfriendly Ways of the Vincent Fish
by sam fish
There was music and dancing
Through all levels of the ocean
During the three day festivities
Between sam fish and shellfish
Hooray
And how the lady lobsters dressed
And the fat sam fish sung
So that even the murkiest waters were fill of merriment
But then
In the morning of the fourth day
The villain vincent fish put a stop
To the free love
And Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1075015693663217392004-01-22T02:27:00.000-05:002004-01-25T02:30:40.436-05:00Opening Shots of the Poetic Revolution Again the Cruel Authoritarian sam Fish Regime
by vincent fish
Softly perched
On the marshmallow pillows
A crabby crustacean clam crowed out
“Cacophonously
The initiation of a Poetic Revolution in which all shell fish
Created equally
Were under the deep seas with cold, dead fish
To never see the surface again ever.
Where the sam fish swim
Bellowing out Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1073978356189598542004-01-13T02:16:00.000-05:002004-01-13T02:19:37.320-05:00Thoughts With Victor
Vincent: When are we assasinating the head of Hangman's Lime?
Andrea: Yeah, our poetry sucks. I don't blame them. They will regret it once they see us published (hopefully) in the Hermes.
Vincent: I don't blame them for rejecting us either, but they led us on like a cute girl without a prom date.Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1071467505646232842003-12-15T00:51:00.000-05:002003-12-15T00:51:58.660-05:00THE HANGMAN'S LIME
*********************
The selection process this year was extremely difficult and the staff put in a lot of time discussing and considering each poem. We thank you for your submission/s and hope that you will submit again for future issues of the magazine, but we have decided not to accept your work. If you have any questions, please contact me.
Take care and be well,
Anna Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1071215474864255572003-12-12T02:49:00.000-05:002003-12-12T02:51:27.120-05:00Defeating Daises
By Andrea "Victor is Awesome" Silenzi
Can life be lived without advice,
polls, suggestions, and transitions?
They say noon is the time to exist
They say sack my Carthage
They say taste my marmalade
But my Tang dynasty
Is not ready
For the Tang drinkesty
I am dealing with the existential crisis of the gopher
Shadows meaningless
Petite tuna acid
Declaring war on my clan
Of Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1071214925508661552003-12-11T02:40:00.000-05:002003-12-12T02:55:03.196-05:00What Happened
by Vincent "(ns)" Vecchione
Two worlds collide
When barbarians from the north
Invade my homeland in the west
Former lovers scream
And I stare in shock
As chaos erupts
And I flee into the nightAndreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1071214667948025972003-12-10T02:36:00.000-05:002003-12-12T02:40:21.363-05:00Topic for Sam
by Sam "Look at me, my name is Sam" Hoyland
I came to a fence
To a building
With eyes
And I walked through and tripped
And looked to the sky
And the sun said, what a folly
You falling bare there
And I said, what a joker
And I got up without a care.
And I went into the house
With eyes
And I looked around
At they looked at me
And I looked around
And they were still looking at me
And Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1071214549502761012003-12-09T02:35:00.000-05:002003-12-12T02:36:01.960-05:00The Death of An Innocent
The time lifts up like bumblebees
I only smoke when I’m drunk
Oh my god, Jesus is such a hottie
I only like Jesus when I am drunk
And then I found twenty dollars
The materialism of it shoot at my heart
Fluffing my sheets is like an orgasm
A fleeting orgasm
Somewhere there is a rainbow
And it is blocked by the New York skyline
I wear sandals in the morning so that my feetAndreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1071215209966832792003-12-08T02:42:00.000-05:002003-12-12T21:42:00.956-05:00My Salamander Rapes Things (a call to arms)
By Steve “I have my own column in the Argus” Aubrey
If you ever go down
With James Brown
To the centurions duel
As a velvet fool
If you think you’re a mercury saint
And James Brown screams, no you ain’t
You want to take your honey with spatula
And your spatula with your honey
Cause you think its funny
And fly into the night
And do what’s right
And findAndreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1071215537022671272003-12-07T02:51:00.000-05:002003-12-12T02:52:29.260-05:00Poem 17 1/2: Tales of Yankee Love
Everything is possible,
but some things shouldn’t be.
Everything is probable,
and my feet are dirty.
You shouldn’t be able to lick your feet clean,
but I have an uncle who can.
To keep things brief,
he remained single for the rest of his life.Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1070662440703243112003-12-05T17:13:00.000-05:002003-12-05T17:14:11.810-05:00Four By Six
For the best rock paper scissors player I have ever met
There is no place like green
The graffiti sprayed baseball hat
Have you ever seen snow fall up
A spaceship to mars powered by Slim Jims
Oatmeal drips slowly onto the face of the moon
I got killed by a blade of grass
Or so the old man thought pensively
Feet to the stars
And her head was like a
And then my mommy ran away
And the Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1070662745364754812003-12-04T17:15:00.000-05:002003-12-05T17:20:30.320-05:00Awareness
by Vincent "always looking for something better" Vecchione
My mother married a big ball
On the day of the fall
We walked through the rain
And she carried her cane
And it was world aids day.Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1070663703763302352003-12-03T17:34:00.000-05:002003-12-05T17:35:14.576-05:00Epic
I once knew a duck
Who worked as a doctor
On a pond of macaroni and cheese
In his little office
With a secret life
And a secret wife
He would quack whenever he told a lie
A night he would joust
With evil Canadian geese
And lose.
And everyone knew it
Cause everyone blue it
But he said screw it
His wife said lets do it
But instead he rejected it al and play Stratego with orphan children
And Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1069367977945378492003-11-20T17:18:00.000-05:002003-11-20T17:39:44.723-05:00Dear Douggie B,
It's too bad your $350,000 a year can't buy you a soul. Here are some words that rhyme with tuition:
Intuition
Mission
Sex-position
Road to Perdition (staring Tom Hanks)
Competition
Rendition
Transition
Dog
Edition
Condition
Tradition
Exposition
Intercontinental Expedition
Intermission
Remission
Submission
Disposition
Extradition
Commission
Addition
Magician
Exhibition
Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1069366325341055152003-11-16T17:09:00.000-05:002003-11-20T17:12:12.510-05:00Poem With a Quote From A Really Famous Person
(cuz good poets do that all the time)
“Multicolored dirty liar
Walked out he door
Don’t let them back
I hated the sweater she was wearing, it was so last year
And his pants were so 1982
His face was like a Panda’s when he walked in
Crocodile shoes at Wesleyan?
That was a really phat joint
I’ve never seen an ear-thong before.
Why’d she try to stab Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1069366125327033472003-11-15T17:05:00.000-05:002003-11-20T17:09:06.683-05:00Sam Wrote This
Cantaloupes
Have no
Way
To
Feel
Love.Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1069365930781994342003-11-14T17:05:00.000-05:002003-11-20T17:05:38.046-05:00The Title of the Peace
Its like a rock
Its so hard
To pass this test
Way out equals entrance
Istanbul and the Black Sea
The Black Sea is Made out of White headache
The reign of white headaches rains down
In an amber haze
Over an old empire
What is it
Old empire
What is it
Old empire
On the back of a camel
Maybe we should race
Across the black sea
Do you see?
On the back of the camel.
Its hump Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1066580035814849522003-11-10T12:13:00.000-05:002003-11-13T12:23:18.333-05:00Condoms Are For Pussys
My love is wireless
It is unfettered
And not connected to earthly substantiality
But it does require a condom.
I freed myself from stiffing ethernet
But not from condoms
Free access to the www
And free access to condoms condoms and condoms
Always update your virus definitions
And condoms
Protection from the SURGES of the everlasting void
And condoms
You should protect Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1068365062573146772003-11-09T03:02:00.000-05:002003-11-09T03:04:26.966-05:00Victor
A Birthday Poem
“Have good birthday!”
“Thank you,
It’s on Sunday.”
It will be a Funday
Better than Monday
Which will be the next day
Before Tuesday
Which can be a Blueday
And then you only have 363 until the next day
But this is your day, Vincent
And its Friday I’m in love
Our love is omniscient
Like a fission vision
February 29 is a bad day to have a B-day
I would be 4 years old
Truth beAndreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1068320545277421332003-11-08T14:42:00.000-05:002003-11-08T14:42:29.193-05:00Kobe Bryant, An American Hero
Crumpled rugs
Barney hugs
Fat ass lugs
Bunny bugs
College boy chugs
Druggie thugs
Everyone else shrugs
Ugly mugs
Sticky nugs
Eep. Eep. Eep.Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1068188325261575142003-11-03T01:16:00.000-05:002003-11-13T12:21:04.240-05:00Google is Omniscient
Spell check saved me
Flipped flashlights
Don't function
So turn yourself on
To crazy computer rambunction
If you can
Because omniscience is impotence
"Not Me"
Said Google
And you never know what will be
Like koogle
And warm rice noodle
From take out
Mmm, Beef
And broccoli
In a stew
Beef stew
It makes me think of you
And your warm meat
Your hair so neat
You can't beat meat
Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1068185708725077262003-11-02T01:05:00.000-05:002003-11-07T01:16:32.136-05:00Part II
The sequel is always worse
than the original.
i am lost in a Matrix II
you can make a case for Star Wars II
Airplane II sucked
but Major League II was a fucking awesome movie
i really liked Legal Weapon II
i think we are missing the point
its like being lost in Siberia II
i liked the Lost World II
before I realized it was a piece of shit
just like the rest
just like my life inAndreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1068185097151451522003-11-01T01:04:00.000-05:002003-11-07T01:05:01.020-05:00I Am Touched
In Siberia I am so alone
Except for snow and permafrost
And my folded up jeans
In my soul I am so alone
With my razor
Without a blade
Razorblade, I mean, what
Fuck you, I am not coming to the next meeting.Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1067574404399634512003-10-31T23:26:00.000-05:002003-11-01T19:03:03.593-05:00Tooth Decay
Aluminum
Is not a metal
It’s a drug
It’s not a metal
It’s better than sex
My doctor dentist said my tongue could go permanently numb
Cavities
Suck
Seeds of darkness
What a fuck
And where’s my dentist today?
He discriminates against my black teeth
Off in his fancy dentist stool, white coat like a
Eggshell, with a chicken fetus, formed, but dead
On weekends he plays gold in his Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1067574025373250922003-10-30T23:20:00.000-05:002003-10-30T23:28:51.790-05:00Emergency Tracheotomy
the sheet rock breaks
the skylight tumbles to the floor
he was on steroids
the grandma yells out
“Help!”
she can’t breathe
a jar of steroids fell on her
glass loges in her neck
chemical attempt to make her
bulky
and
she gets stronger, slightly
she punches the sheetrock
she runs for governor
under the campaign slogan
“Down with Sheetrock!”
and
“Down With Light!”
I am the Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1067544444363973432003-10-29T15:03:00.000-05:002003-10-30T15:07:53.550-05:00Filthy Laundry
By Fielding "Spank Me" Hong
Its like a monster that lives
Under my bed
Teasing me
Tempting me
Wanting me wash it
But no, I have too much homework
I have to read mindless boring shit about someone I don’t care about.
But fuck you
I have to say
I can live it with it another day
What do you have to say to that, laundry?
I will just keep on getting dirtier and dirtier.
I will Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1067544727201034782003-10-28T15:10:00.000-05:002003-10-30T15:12:09.030-05:00Mushu
By Vincent "SJB Master" Vecchione
At its most sublime peak
Not quite so fresh
Yet best
When not
Indeed at most joys found
When given time to mature
A few days more
A few days less
Not so good
The Chinese food is best
One. Day. Old.Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1067544138581747682003-10-27T15:00:00.000-05:002003-10-30T23:29:39.443-05:00A Party At Beta
By Vincent "Not Victor" Vecchione
ballooning
bubbles
bursting with
bubble gum
bubblingly
boils
by the
bay
barking
bitches at the
beach
bye
bye.Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1066941664659439232003-10-23T16:40:00.000-04:002003-10-23T16:44:13.513-04:00antiflow
make me do it again
roll over
cause your words aren’t saying anything
we’ll suck togetherAndreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1066941435821222662003-10-22T16:35:00.000-04:002003-10-23T16:45:17.010-04:00Butterflies and Masturbation
Those are some hot petals
Petals
Petals
Petals
Spreading out before me
Young buds
Its springtime
And the Lego colored flowers are in bloom
No birds or bees this season
Just butterflies
And buds
And dog poop on the streets
And masturbation
Stroke my petals
And watch the little girls go by in line
Pedophilic Petals
With protruding proboscis
She cried out
Stick Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1066941583456934162003-10-21T16:39:00.000-04:002003-10-23T16:40:00.313-04:00A Day in the LiveZ
I woke up 10 minutes late this morning.
I got up and Tom was in my room.
I had a nonsense class over the internet today.
I had a nonsense class over the internet today.
I raped my Italian exam.
Breakfast at the campus center.
I cut.
Met at the campus center for dinner.
Oh god, what did I have for dinner?
Up on the roof.
Drunken essays are so much fun.
We read.
I went to the Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1066941500784796502003-10-20T16:37:00.000-04:002003-10-23T16:38:34.080-04:00The Fez
The time will come when you’ll be sad
The time will come when we won’t have to steal lines from books
And she smiled
I have a hat
Thank god for that.
It was really cold and wet.Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1066579983939833512003-10-18T12:11:00.000-04:002003-10-19T12:13:04.010-04:00Rolling thunder
or how I learned to stop worrying and love the bomb
there is no punctuation in poetry
what are you kidding me
unless you want it there.
shut up you bastards!!!
quiet down
that would be retarded, never mind.
with a period at the end?
oh no.
i refuse all periods, commas semi colons
I REFUSE ALL PUNCUATION EXCLIMATION EXCLAMATION EXCLAMATION
do not italicize me in the marginsAndreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1066579825199606582003-10-17T12:08:00.001-04:002003-10-19T12:17:12.070-04:00Scrotum
My mind on my money and my money on my mind
It was a black, jack day
All cards on the table
Everyone's anti was up
Except for the old lady in the corner
Who refused to play
Tired
Desolate
Watching from the outside
She understood poor
Ly
Counting her coins
Fingers tripping slowly over each one
With one eye leering at the players in the table
Luck a distant memory
From days gone by
YouAndreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1066318628565763442003-10-16T11:29:00.000-04:002003-10-16T11:37:08.273-04:00Governor Von Pebbles
in memory of momentum
strong momentum
is nothing left of us
i speak
until the words run dry
funeral processions morning the lost of…
my cat
that’s not poetic
my late cat
the cat of my dreams
my love
my sorrow
(my feline sorrow)
he died
one night
too much momentum
goddamned physics
under the sheets
in a car
yeah sheets are definitely a metaphor for street
and car is a Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1066317983532077092003-10-15T11:25:00.000-04:002003-10-16T11:41:14.616-04:00Andreas Dyslexia
Carrot
So fast, so fast
Yawn, jiminy cricket
Speeding tickets, with read lights under the street.
Black light.
I don’t want to hear this
Sounds nice in theory
Communism
I like cheese
Voices
In my head keep going how
What voices?
Murmuring flowers
And sharp glass
The Pillsbury doughboy
He’s fat
Andreas fast
Phat, spelled with a P
Spelled with a Pete
Dan is full of anger
You’reAndreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1065683498897086692003-10-09T03:04:00.000-04:002003-10-09T03:11:38.990-04:00Parrots, pepper, pine trees, oh my.
The sounds of footsteps.
The sound of pine trees.
Are we going in a circle?
Around a tree
Oh.
My.
Yeah.
Ahhh you gotta keep going.
This is turning into crap.
“There are no lines,” she screamed into the darkness
howling with the peanut butter in her throat
but the parrots, not really chirping
but choking on peppers.
Fuck off you parrots,
you damn dirty Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5917897.post-1065682958050706882003-10-02T03:01:00.000-04:002003-10-09T03:02:38.216-04:00A Day In The Life of Pacman
munching
lots of dots
I feel the pull of the buttons.
I got the hots for miss Pacman
(or should it be Pacwoman?)
I feel the man coming down on me
they try to control me with their
hairy, ugly hands.
like s&m, I am their
Pacbitch as I
add things to my mouth.
from the magic Japanese lands
my name is Fifu not Pacman
the ghosts
is what I fear most
haunting my sushi Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09415839347642365095noreply@blogger.com