46.47 w16sh the flight.


when you’re lies lack a certain panache

your gannache leaves only the teeth to gnash

you’re love affairs coming through the garage door

interpretative dance to the flight of the bumblebee

and she lacks her blue eye shadow

so now to the chase…. oh wiener dog?

how well can you call the love affair cancellation?

out to the yard and whether the lil shit burried your byrds

or an unmentionable sex toy

ever the ant under the magnifying lens?

oh but now forย  rieu the day.



By Starman Jones

Everything and Nothing interests me. I cook read, write and even have to clean. I SHOULD NOTE: I'm 40 something.

One reply on “46.47 w16sh the flight.”

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