Euphemisms
welcome to my taco
find the teacup under the sheet
have a sip of lemonade
park your car in the beef garage
put your hand in the clown’s pocket-
a rented tuxedo of flesh,
a hot pocket,
a ham sandwich,
bacon for breakfast,
a rooster fish
it’s gutted rabbit grilled cheese gold-
a sad little clam, a landing strip, a wound
that will never heal.
find the teacup under the sheet
have a sip of lemonade
park your car in the beef garage
put your hand in the clown’s pocket-
a rented tuxedo of flesh,
a hot pocket,
a ham sandwich,
bacon for breakfast,
a rooster fish
it’s gutted rabbit grilled cheese gold-
a sad little clam, a landing strip, a wound
that will never heal.
posted by Heidi Bloom at 12:35 AM
4 Comments:
I miss your drunk poetry
This is sober poetry.
THIS is cool poetry. It reminds me of Don Van Vliet's (Captain Beefheart) poems and songs. His, however, were largely done under the influence of potent LSD.
You should write more, Hides.
I like the floppy boot stomp.
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