Tuesday, January 3, 2012

"Now This is What I Call Poetry"

If I call you a lemon, would
you date my tailbone? Perhaps the
Easter fish would call you my "son."
Be that as it may, come chill with me
beside the freezer and we
shall take out the frozen steak,
sit on it, and proceed to melt it
with our bottom's heat. Need there
be a God greater than Ours,
we shall disdain thee.

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