Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

under the ax of the half moon
i roll up like a twister
can't get around it
not without the right dose
something's got to give
and it's not me baby
i'm on the frontier
a border guard
protecting my better half
from the forces of chaos and
spontaneous combustion
she likes when that happens
she gets a kick
she takes the dirty back road
lights the gasoline and howls
like a banshee
tanked and torqued
one day she'll grow up
but i won't be around when that happens

Heroic
I put myself in your poem and I felt like a hero

just my gut reaction, when I think about it some more I will probably realize that was not high enough praise for it.

That prize next to the peanut in the bottom of the box of crackerjax, some of those old ones from the 50's are worth a lot of dough.

i used to love those surprises; now they are just paper - no ring- nothing of substance, and less peanuts to boot. the law of diminishing returns - the fabric of our lives.