Cooing Chicks in the Breeze

 

Fragrant points of cupid daring

the mosquito in the pocket

toward insubstantial pitiful low edge

if you could ply it up

toward nothing new

could it bore you into knitting

the neckties twisting

my neck till I’m screaming.

 

Hold of going there now

write off negotiating placid dreams

negating nortorious numbers plumbing upward

Not me, I’m the problem.

Not him, plumbs in the basement

always knocking never playing

 

Caldron boiling nipping nasty doldrums

boxed up plucking drop kicks

kidding me taking notes never bothered

take time to pay the rent and play games

toward toucans teaming with cleft chins upward

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