How do you get that stuff?
You know, the stuff that oozes
from the drums of the insipid
self-forgetters. Am I speaking
your language? Please nod if you
can understand me. Okay, are you
able to hear me at all? Are you
even looking at me? Goodness,
we’re in quite the pickle here.
Well, just let me know if you
can acknowledge me in any way.
No sign at all, this is great.
All right, so just ignore me
and I’ll be on my way.
Hallowed is the hall
where the fork dropped
and twanged under
the cylindrical sponge
that the mixed media students
decided to put together
as an homage to bizarro Spongebob,
their lovable school mascot.
He was concocted as a way
to avoid copyright infringement
while also making an ironic statement
about how our schools have no funding.
But back to the matter at hand:
we must find a way to figure out
the internal mechanism
that allows us to be creative
for longer than four seconds at a time!
Five seconds would be an improvement,
though we will certainly settle
for four and a half if necessary.
Wherever the timpani comes from,
we must remember that importers
would kill to get their hands
on our instruments. Never
turn your back for one second,
and you must remember
that super heroes can be real
(if the price is right).
Bedlam is what they call
the chicken wing syndrome
that’s been going around
these parts these days
with these kids
and these chicken bones
in the back yards
of their collective courtyards,
sold into poverty by dogs
who simply refused
not to dig up holes
where the gardenias
should have been growing.
Standing here in the rain
is going to be a tough assignment,
especially since it’s a Tuesday.
I don’t know what Tuesday
really has to do with it,
but I know that the sound you make
on a Tuesday morning – over coffee,
not without buttered scones – really
irks me. Typically 8:46am, but
sometimes 9:15. It’s as though
your internal clock were tuned to an
interstellar annoyance-based alarm system,
designed specifically to take advantage
of my obsessive tendencies.
A missile
jabbed its fist
into the socket
of an asymmetrical
potato boat machine,
causing untold tiers
of military destruction
to squander our hard-
earned resources
on a global scale.
The price of iron
will increase
by about 34% tomorrow,
insiders have been warned.
WHARVED 