Take the first para seriously, because I am damn serious about what I say in that one para…
This poem is pathetic and rude
Like a rotten fruit,
DUMB,
An insult to one’s thumb,
Silent as the sleeve-less shirt
Of Aussie sledges where the moss has grown-
This poem should have been wordless
As a bunch of turds.
This poem is motionless in time
-Silly, drabby and prolonged as the moon that climbs.
Leaving, as the Aussies released
Shred by shred their golden sleeves,
Leaving, as the Aussies behind their shirt sleeves,
Numbing, memory by memory the mind-
This poem is motionless in time
-Silly, drabby, and prolonged as the moon that climbs.
This poem is equal to:
Greater than, lesser too.
For all the history of grief
An empty fridge and an Aussie sleeve.
For love
The singing asses and REALLY GOTTA PEE-
So lemme go,
Just lemme be…
If you hated this, wait till you read the original here.
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