Entrance (with fish)

January 7, 2009 at 6:31 pm | Posted in genre isn't dead yet but it should be, poetry, writing | 24 Comments
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What difference between dead and bored
demands the giant fish of Miss January
flopping madly across the dance floor
towards the punchbowl,
cannot seem to want to make sentences
which gently reveal what you already know
but in a different context like some yes, hello.
Where’s The Piano!
want to burst into the room in bright
red boxers and green bowtie
announcing the (Panic!) end
of all the known with Mr
Fantastical painted in gold
on my half shaven chest and waving a
giant alive goldfish which swears
like a drunken veteran and demands
virgins.

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