PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Half Asleep with one eye open 

When I happen to see the Saturday Night Slam Masters 

Ripping top ropes into the stratus 

With commercial breaks interrupting them

by lonely men in their hair clubs

who leave me pining my own scalp these days 

Simple and Stupid

The neglected coddled dalliances we hold dear

Spinning endless in a ball of fire

You called your troubled youth,

Bring me the rings of that troubled planet

and I'll beat you to death with them,

Guaranteed

or your money back

--Wink(With a glimmer on the teeth)

The remote is somehow sticky,

Pressing the buttons has that slow depression thing going on 

while I also have that...

slow depression thing going on

and now it gets stuck on channels I'd never watch,

C-Span plays the pale circus

That is designed to make me care or care less,

And I second that motion before the filibuster files suit,

My lids are crusted

In brown outs tapping out

And I’m battling back and forth

In reality and the realm between

Lids open in stained static

—“Set it and forget it huh? Where’s my wallet?”

Lids closed in black magic 

—“Put me through to the President.”

Im stuck in this Limbo with no stick

No music

And no hits 

And the Saturday Night Slam Masters

--Bless their hearts

Have choke holds like you wouldn’t believe