Look, a used needle. This tip smells real funky. It’s a deadly prick.
By George Zelinski3 months ago in Poets
The horror of life, Living in an evil world, Dying is heaven.
The gifts we receive, Organ donors are in town, Life’s on holiday.
The old cat chatters— Filthy rats—scramble in fear, Hear kittens meow…..
Bakeries make dough; They knead, punch, and lay it out, Wait—yours is coming.
Tainted sauce simmers, Pasta twists, rolling, boiling, A dish to die for.
Church’s raging in sin, Spirits consumed by desires, Hell doth hath fury.
To your hands it leaped, The Golden Frog rests calmly, Feeling your heart break.
Garden work’s dreadful, Harvesting rusty razors, My hand's killing me.
A house of horrors, Squeaky floors, a leaking roof, A seller’s market.
The beaches are closed, Waves of flesh-eating germs crash, Remember sunscreen.
Medea’s Brew House, Braised entrails in newt eye sauce. They serve good coffee.
