Maneuver a bull on the stage, lime lights seeing red read your lines in a dizzy haze black out cue the narrator: the popsicle obstacle went on a journey in this journal, where Brother Blood meets Mother Mud is when Jose complains no way he’ll crochet, sodadoughs are almost palindromic but yikes the lemon lightContinue reading “Frage Stight”
Tag Archives: humor
Some random poems I didn’t know what to do with
supreme pizza is sickeningly soluble in soda so stir slowly, then sip some savagely inside swift straws and slake your satisfying salivation. — Witch on a mop such a precarious affair likely to flop through the nefarious air — your diaper burn hurt the fern terns adjourn in the bird nest and confer the bestContinue reading “Some random poems I didn’t know what to do with”
Alphabet Stewp
Allazia ate my allergy Beatrice bit my bee Carlos cut clean cells and I learnt my abc’s like an xqz: a for apple and ape c for copper cents k for knee and s for snake plus is but you already knew this I mean uu olredee noo qis and yeah we have spare lettersContinue reading “Alphabet Stewp”
Can You Feel It in the Air Tonight
oh darling, there’s something in the air tonight, and it’s
Tale of Underwater Ghost
Tug of war with the man o’ war one tentacle at a time and maybe you’ll get a ride to a higher plane of existence, or perhaps a deeper one to the shipwrecks and bioluminescent flesh
The Sanity Planity
Laugh the awful off, give a good teehee or a bwahaha–all the flaws, brush them off like cinder sloughing from the good ol’ apple tree
The Aliens Are Unionizing
Baskets woven by alien women are still just baskets and eons went with no one asking for equal pay across the planets, “How dare they,” Matila mutters one day, “pay us less for our work?” So Matila forms the galactic guild of weavers, every Sunday they meet to discuss payment in yen but no oneContinue reading “The Aliens Are Unionizing”
Opinion Onion
I aired my onion and it lured out your tears; so sorry ’bout that.
Bad Apples/Puns
If you threw your phone across the room, well, that apple’s phlone, far from the tree, with its smelly feet, you know I gotta rhyme feet with feat and be proud of that feat
don’t tell dada ’bout the doggie door
What a deranging display of pointless perfidiousness, superfluous insidiousness, what plainly prattling perfidious pomps these two children are, all persnickety and rickety making a racket with their wickets in the croquet thicket,
Jordyn Saelor 