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Iconoclast Forgetting to Burn His Toast
Contributed by
Adam_Gaucher
on
Saturday, 17th August 2002 @ 07:08:24 PM in AEST
Topic:
MiscPoems
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"O Miss, I love your daughter's voice," he says. Seen as no more than another paper-bag face with a magazine hair cut, the collaboration of culture/sub-culture fails here, (another processed example of a situation's chaos).
I sit in the lawn autographing in alphabetical order, every blade of grass I've ever stepped on. Mozart is there to help me if I forget any of the letters. Sometimes I do it on purpose just to hear him sing.
The main problem with an angle of confrontation lies within one who cares to deliver it in the first place, (he searches for someone who doesn't want her tomatoes). What did you expect her to say to that? Let's go out and have a cigarette? Let's go out and look at the stars? You could have asked me and I'd have told you there were too many clouds out there. I'd have also expressed the surprise I had when you didn't ask her if she liked cucumbers.
I guess that if I don't want somebody on my a**, I shouldn't put such small letters on my bumper sticker. Someday I'll open a theatre and dance under the giant flashing marquee which discriminates between the people who can and should not talk to me. It's not that there's anyone out there I wouldn't love to converse with, it's just that I think it seems right to offer a fair warning for their protection. Something like, "Please do not approach this man expecting any form of convention." (I'll have to hire a writer).
The hair stylist shaves his head to get enough sleep at night. I have to forget where I've left my pen. It would be best if I could forget where I've left my brain, but I haven't yet figured out how to lose it in quite the same way as I've learned to lose the minds of others.
Copyright ©
Adam_Gaucher
... [
2002-08-17 19:08:24] (Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: Iconoclast Forgetting to Burn His Toast
(User Rating: 1 ) by Jackee_line on
Tuesday, 25th February 2003 @ 09:23:17 AM AEST (User
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I enjoyed this one, Funny poem. |
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