Me Piper
Kick talk time
For those who walk a white black line
The man stands erect,
Like a Penis Engish Teacher
And demands the answer he made for himself.
Do the strings hold him?
Is the windshield clean?
Let him clean it
for you,
My dear.
Let the sweet sax whisper in your ear.
You're already too close to get near.
Have some carrorts,
Octopusface!
A laugh filled with fear,
But is it me or he that is afraid of the other?
Well, let's just find out,
and show me the other side of the kilt Brother!
There's a light...
And someone is still awake.
Enter the Dragon
Monday, June 18, 2007
Posted by Christopher at 9:38 PM
Labels: Christopher, Poetry
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6 comments:
Is the windshield clean?
Let him clean it
for you,
My dear.
HOLY GOD, I am pissing my pants right now!
It's..it's like this poem is about me.
Genius!!!!
*bows and coughs horribly due to lung infection*
Two birds
One stones' throw!
Bravo sir! Bravo!
I'm applauding with rapid snaps of my extra-long fingers.
A fine installment to the Christopher brand of poetic justice.
*sips on her espresso and snaps her fingers with AP*
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