wordsmithy (locksmithy) wrote,

A mirror-holding figure


186. November 6, 2010 (sat., crashing the Bunny Collab. shmoozeworkshop w. Meff/Helena at Pamplona)

What time is it? i hardly feel
Sober-- moonlight savings
Add 1 hour of subterranean brew

Wrought iron cafe table
With three birds perched--
Last bastion of November beatniks

Here the playwrights can think (smoke)
Hunkered down double-breasted jackets
Inspiration comes within the sight of vices

Dragon drifting towards privilege-steeples, etc.
Each soy latte propels our character
Assessment plots over my Abnormal

Psychology text book, too giggly to split the DSM-IV bill--
PTSD for the March Hare and this moustache doodle
Merging with third eye kiss curl, see

Stalactite stirs cave sugar
Limestone coffee cup drip drip
Crash into sibyl's saucer

Through chick pea soup steam
i make off-colour notes
Fingerless socks on my arms

Puppets plot the inmates' escape
Alice in the Asylum, Off with her meds!
Out of time now, Red Nurse Ratchet

Will chase the skunk out of group
Therapy, the weeds growing
In the hoarder's toilet tank

The clock parts the poor boy's amassing
By emergency matches
Halo of emergency exits


cheating b/c even though this poem is about show plots 8-days ago, i have pix from the end-product (Omnivortex Wonderland this past fri.) -- i don't hafta wait to share! cos...it's my poem-a-day and i'll blog if i want to. high on life from Dr. Sketchy's afternoon, too mood ;)

week27: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5
Tags: beatnik fondue, friends, ill lit salon, poem-a-day, recappin, the writing life, toychest
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