Businessmen,and their whores, of course.Spotty bellboys and dirty sheets.I suppose there’s worse places.
They slammed the door,left my stuff on the street.I sighed, working out where the nearestgarage could be. Grabbed the bin bags, started walking.
A few hours later I was backin my home with themA bunch of flowers sat proudlyon the table.
Keep the stock up.Don’t care where you get it.Just keep it coming,and flying off the shelves.
Unethical my ass,we’re all going to Hell.
A pint of lager,Or of blood, if you are acreature of the night.
Good word,glum.Sounds like what it is:Uninteresting, brown, and somehow really good.Maybe I just take comfortin apathy.
We found a witch.A real one, honest!She told us to leave her bewith her cauldron all a-simmer.We left, scared she mightcurse us forever.
The next day we went backand found a burnt out firewhere she’d been.And nearby was a tree on which,someone carved a message.We left, and let mysteriesbe mysteries.
(I’m not sure on the definition of escapade.)
GoDO SOMETHINGI believe in you tohave adventures andhi jinx andmaybe meet a friend. One of the onesyou can keep,I mean,really keep. In both your heartand your bed
Keep your achievements nobody wants to know, sokeep them to yourself.
Find your poles,keep their distance,don’t try and holdthem together.They’ll never fold, never lose this waragainst your grasp .Don’t take their hand,let them run off,water and sand.
I’m alright, actually.
"What do you mean,'my acestors are monkeys?!'My ancestors died, butyou can still SEE monkeys!”
The next few posts are from an exercise I did where I opened a dictionary and the first word i saw was the topic of a poem.
They were all done in <3mins each but it was a pretty nice exercise I guess.