Sullen minds belch gray ash.
Anti-poem knows a logic of dust.
We, bacon spit in the starry frypan,
try to cap volcanoes in dusty egos.
Anti-poem
Re: Anti-poem
Note: Not necessarily dedicated to anyone in particular. Nor Any Thing. In fact it's No Thing at all.
Re: Anti-poem
I don't believe this, a fine poem, amigo.
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Allow not destiny to intrude upon Now
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Allow not destiny to intrude upon Now
- one of those jerks
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Re: Anti-poem
Antimattermnaz wrote:
Sullen minds belch gray ash.
Anti-poem knows a logic of dust.
Bacon spit in a starry frypan fries,
tries to cap volcanoes in dusty egos.
weird but for some reason, a bit from Little Sister came to mind when I read your poem. maybe frypan fries?
I had time to inhale two cups of coffee and a melted-cheese sandwich with two slivers of ersatz bacon embedded in it, like dead fish in the silt at the bottom of a drained pool. I was crazy. I liked it. R. Chandler
I must be crazy, I liked it even if it/was nothing
thanks for the poem i can use

dondt mind me
highjack
Re: Anti-poem
Thanks Cec and Truck. I originally had it as "bacon spit in the cosmic frying pan" (that's us!), but "cosmic" has been sounding a little too cliche... (all the best shit is repeated to death, pounded into "cliche" status, it seems...)
I changed it a little. Sorry.
I changed it a little. Sorry.
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