A Poem Thread

Worldly Love

“Male and female are each the opposite twin of the other.”

“They are—just as we are each other’s satellite.”
“Yes, we are like twin planets, right,
Linked and traveling together through space’s night.”

“I am thy co-planet, like Shelley writes,
Thy constant satellite,
Thy paramour of day and night.
Around you, above you, below you, alight,
And ever within your sight,
As I whirl about you in loving delight!”

“My heavenly love, I am your pearl.
In a magnetic dance I twirl and whirl,
Attracted to you—the sun’s liveliest world.
Around you like a necklace I’m aswirl.
Wear me as thy crystalline gem impearled.”

“I am always with you, blessed.
Wherever thou must goest,
‘Round and ‘round Apollo,
I must turn and whirl, hurry and follow,
Meeting meteors and dust, high and low,
Traveling far and wide through space not hollow.”

“You are my heart light.
Thy magnetic beam, like Cupid’s arrow’s flight,
Injects life and love into my heart for my tomorrow.
Ever I shine with this light I borrow.”

“We are involved.
As twin planets, our orbits must convolve,
A made-up word, allowable.
Into each other our tidal motions must dissolve.
Around a common center we revolve,
Gazing on each other from every side.
It’s the focus from which our love evolves.”

“Yes, as twin planets, each other’s way we pave,
Through space, with the push-pulse of our gravitating waves.
We’re captured by a romantic attraction, saved,
But not as each other’s slave,
For to the sun’s light our orbits are concave.
This is unconditional love we’ve made.”

“Your love echoes in the heart and soul of us.
I align my path with your magnetic lines of flux.
I’m your constant paramour, all the time,
Your world pours life and love on mine. On mine!
Oh, it echoes. Dearest twin,
I must be thine, must be thine, be thine… ”

“Your love echoes and reverberates in me.
A romantic beam emanates from thee,
Attracting me, holding me, caressing me, kissing me.
Your tidal love washes freely over me,
Linking you and me for eternity.”

“I feel the warmth tonight.
I am basking in your reflected light.
Oh, I’m so bright, so very bright in your sight.
In the love and light of your spirit bright,
I need not ever face the endless night.”

“The vibrations of your electromagnetic grounds
Travel without a sound.
They come from all directions, to surround,
While your affection touches me, all around.
Now I’m close to you in orbit; I’m love-bound!”

“We’ll bathe in love’s radiance, cleansing ourselves.”
“’Round and ‘round each other’s selves,
As twin planets, we dance,
Entranced in the whirl of our romance.”

“Although we’re as different as midnight and noon,
We’re drawn close by the forces of sun and moon.
As lovers we merge in a sweet eclipse,
When world meets world as a kiss on our lips.”

“While your shadow of love covers me,
I’m full, oh so full, in the shade of thee.”

“Our worlds overlap; this union is ‘us’ to be.
The ‘you’ is in me and the ‘me’ is in thee!”

“Thy heart hast touched my own; no, ‘tis more I love thee!”

“Yes, much more art thou loved; the ‘me’ is now in thee.”

“Thou art the soul of my soul and mine is of thine, see.”

“Nay, ‘tis more than that: thou art me and I am thee.”

( Eclipse — A Kiss )

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wDayCRN3UMc
 
The Rose’s Treasure

They awoke early the next day’s hour,
And again drank the dew from the flowers.
She picked a new rose to carry, with her trailing.
They thought they heard the rose laughing
And that they could even see it smiling.

The rose spoke, of what is so,
“I am the rose that blows
Laughing into the world’s bows,
Until my tassels tear again,
When I throw my petals on the garden.
Cherish me, for I represent the strife,
The fragility and impermanence of life.
I live in my prime but for just a while.
First, I’m flowering and free, a child,
But then I am fragile, and finally, forlorn.
When my beauty is past, my petals float, torn,
To earth, and all that’s left is the thorn!
But, while I live I am full of power,
The queen of all the flowers!”

She clutched the rose, then said to her partner,
“Like the rose, we will grow old one day, sir.
And then throw our treasure back to earth.”

( Thorns Have Roses )

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Du_ddTQyt18
 
Never Old

“When I was young, I wildly embraced many causes,
Including monkhood, and searched for all the ‘becauses’,
But I haven’t any regret—
I enjoyed my life as such yet,
When I was young and wet.”

“Yes,” she continued more,
“Me too, for every age has it’s own charm and lore,
Much like the different lights of evening, noon, and morn.
There are always new worlds to explore,
And each year seems to get better, more.”

“Yes, just when you think you’ve done it all,
You rise up to the next level, tall,
Building on what’s been done before,
And then do everything better even more.”

“As for feeling old, it is only a state of mind there,”
She said, as she playfully toyed with his hair.

“Keep playing; here’s what I am told:
“The day one stops being playful and bold
Is the day that one begins to get old.”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qvumX9lgWZE
 
Time

Time


How does one measure the passing
of time? By vague feeling in ones
testicles? By rhythms of redundant
white cells in pyramidal brain loops?

The thoughts of lovers lost returning
over and over and over again?

I like to think it’s measured by
possibilities of things to come
but those damn lovers
keep coming back.


Kenny A. Chaffin – 5/27/11
 
The Quick and the Dead

They moved on, finding the remains of a ghost town,
And soon arrived at another cemetery’s lawn,
Where they saw a man sitting next to a grave and stone.

“What are you doing, man?”

“I’m waiting for this dead and buried man
To come back from death’s land
And tell me what it’s like on the other side.
I’ve been waiting here ten years now,” he sighed.

“What have you learned from where he lies?”

“Nothing. I fear that perhaps ideas may die
When the mind turns to dust and flies,
That there can be no unique breath
And enduring identity after death,
Without the brain and its memory’s worth,
Just as there wouldn’t be any before birth.”

“It could very well be that death is mindless
And quite senseless.”

“Well, if no one comes back to tell me it about,
I will just have to die to find it all out.”

“We will all die someday, my child,
So you might as well live your life in the meanwhile.
Remember, your warm body full of bloom
Is worth ten thousand lying in the tomb.
Live while you’re still full of life’s tune.
By these verses let your lamp of life relume!”

The man thought a while, to find…
Currents flashed signals through his living mind—
As chemicals decoded the impulses in kind.
He came to a conclusion, and said, in turn,
“We’re all a part of nature, so to nature we must return.”

He then got up and went off in another direction,
But they could still hear him speaking his diction.
“I sprang from the soil, born to live and die.
Then I beheld life’s font and drank it dry.
I may not live forever, yon,
But my words and deeds will live on.
As for me, I must go back, whence I came by—
I must return to earth and die.”

( Everyone Dies, But Not Everyone Lives )

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JWQj1fbsckQ
 
The Four Elements

“I know where purgatory is,”
She said playfully, as a quiz.

“Where it is?”

“It’s on the planet Venus, horrid,
Because that’s where sulfuric acid
Rains down from the skies that pour it.”

“Must be. I know where Hell is done.”

“Where? Wait, I know. It’s got to be in the sun!”

“Of course, there’s no place hotter than that one.”

“And we know where Heaven is, don’t we?”

“Yes we do, it’s so lovely,
Even though it is the world’s best kept secret—
Earth is its name! Now out it’s let!”

They strolled ever onward, feeling rather Heavenly.

He and she were living, sleeping their worth,
And eating with their lover, the Earth,
Sensing all of its charms, treasures, joys, and mirth.

It began to rain, by chance,
And, way off in the distance,
They could hear people cursing at the rain.

“I never curse the rain, in vain,
For without water there would be no life the same.”

“The universe has our well-being at stake here
In the general sense, in the long run, dear.”

“But not in the specific sense, because, it’s plain,
Your house could float away if there’s too much rain.
Then the worms will come out again.”

“Worms are wonderful too, all of them,
But even though so, some people hate them.”

“They aerate over 400 million tons of soil per day.
If it weren’t for the worms’ toiling each day,
There would not have been the swirl
The plant growth that now sustains the world.
No worms, no life uncurled!”

“So, we’re all in this together—you, me, and the worms.”

“Yes, there seems to be a subtle, interlinked complexity to life.”

“The Earth is the best of all possible worlds of life!”

“Yes, all is right with the world, by good chance,
Even though it may not seem so, at first glance,
What with the calamities of nature and so forth,
But it couldn’t really work any other way, for,
It’s hard to argue with what works.”

“Right, the food chain works,
The climate works,
Everything works!”

“My blood runs warm, like the fire of the sun at noon.”

“My spirit is swept by the swelling moon!”

“Water is in me.”

“The air flows through me.”

“Earth’s rhythm is always playing our tune to be!”

“Earth, air, fire, and water—that’s life’s recipe!”

“How is it that everything works on Earth if it is so rare?”

“Well, think of it this way, fair:
If it didn’t work then we wouldn’t be here
To even think about it’s thrall—
So, it’s not so very remarkable after all!”

“I propose a toast, to life, seeing as we’re here!”

She raised herself up.
“I am the cup.”

“Then, as my chalice I will lift you up!”

“And take of me a sup!”

“I’ll drink deep the wine that satisfies love’s thirst.”

“Before the winds of change dry you up first!”

“Here, here!”

“Drink me, air!”

“And here’s another toast:”

“Drink the lifeblood of the grapes you’ve sown,
Before pressing time squeezes out what’s grown.”

“And the closing poem:
Do toast with thy chalice that all be known—
To life’s red wine I give all that I own!”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I_f0TvAyyDU
 
Joplin


Not even kindling meets my eye
just piles and piles of rubbish & debris
as far as my weary eyes
dare travel the mile-wide swath.

Winds stronger than hurricanes
more powerful than gravity. Buses
roofs, boats tossed and smashed
like children’s tinkertoys.

A scar of devastation six miles long
through the heart and soul
of Joplin leaving nothing…

…nothing….


Kenny A. Chaffin – 5/30/11
 
Time, Death, and Stardust

They walked away the day,
Making an early camp to stay,
So they could warm again together in that way.

Soon the stars came out of their jars.
They liked to talk about the stars.

“Lay down on your back, for some quoting.
Let’s pretend that we’re floating
Through deep space; it noting.”

“Once we were, us.”

“When we were stardust.”

“Time, death, and stardust—
Those three were our birthright, duly.
Death chose the wise from the silly,
The useful from the useless,
The pointed from the pointless.
Death sifted the best from the rest.”

“But it took a long of time of yore,
Since death was the only evaluator;
It took eons and ages of time’s acumen
For us to evolve from stardust into humans.”

“Time, death, and stardust’s path—
They write our epitaph
As well as our birthright past:
When our time expires, of the cleft,
Death will come, our life bereft
And only our dust will be left.”

“From time and death and dust we came,
And to this, that, and thus we must return the same.”

“Born from stardust, nourished by sunlight,
I’ve filled my cup with wonders of delight.”

“Life is a treasure, a radiant gem,
A light that we’ll never see again.”

“Your words show me all the more of
The worth of our love.
Hold me, love me, be one with me, hand in glove.”

“Let’s merge yours and mine into ours of.”

They embraced under the stars.
Endless flames burned in the sky’s spires
As they snuggled their inner fires.
“When I see the stars, their poetic verse,
Then I know that all is right with the universe.”

“They are eternity’s running lights;
Look, they shine, even through the black plight
Of the fathomless night!”

“It’s as if good has conquered evil, right—
For darkness can’t even quench the smallest light,
As even a mere candle can vanquish night!”

“They say that twin genii split day and night,
along with wrong and right.”

“The candle lights
The darkness and fills it bright!”

“Starlight is the origin of our being.”

“A star is the soul of the universe’s seeing.”

“The sun is our Earth’s soul and life star.”

“We are sparks from the stars on high, afar.
We glow bright for a while, then flicker and die, as par.”

“Our light shines now, so bright,
Reluming the flames in the black of night.”

“We are magic lanterns shining here—
Our spirits are the lights in there.”

“From what bright star came the gleam in your eyes?”

“From what distant sun came your smile, light-wise?”

Their hearts answered for them.
Soon they were ready to sleep again.

“Embrace me, starlight!”

“Hold me, stardust!”

“Goodnight. Sleep well. Say a prayer of sleep for us.”

“Each night my genie comes to fill my urn,
Pouring sleep into me until day’s return.
I dream of the beauty of night’s urn
And the bounty of day’s return.
As the day follows night for all eterne,
Fulfillment follows all for which I yearn.”

As they were drifting off to sleep,
Voices filled the blackness of the deep.
It was some sort of celestial debate to meet:

“I’m the darkest,” said the Shadow to the Night.

“No,” said Midnight, “compared to me you’re bright.”

“You floodlights!” said Starless Space, “Stop your fight!
The darkest plight is the lack of love’s delight.”

( Love-Lights )

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IKjsbgo1MKg
 
Intuition from the Stars

After a good night’s sleep, it seems,
They awoke, like dewdrops, all agleam,
Fresh with the delight of some remembered dream.

“We are the creative principle, aren’t we?”

“Yes, it is embodied in us at length.
We live by our intuitive strength.”

“And this intuition thing—
‘it’ seems to know something,
Which, I suppose, as a definition,
Is why they call it intuition.”

“It is the light within. It is a life principle.”

“It’s an inner creative source, I know.”

“So, I’ll live from my intuitive wisdom knit,
And sometimes act spontaneously on it,
Rather than get labored down and ring
With too much conventional reasoning.”

“Yes, and this is my idea of how creativity binds
From the unity of the heart, soul, senses, and mind:
The wonders of life bring love to the heart’s peak,
And cause it to take flight, so to speak,
As all the while the soul whispers unimaged things
To us through its own language sings,
Which makes them of unimaginableness—
But they are ever in our subconscious;
And all this, if we let its whences,
Streams, dually, into our senses
And into our intellect, merging there, a buoy,
Taking us to a point quite beyond joy—
For that’s when imagination
Freely enlightens the mind’s rationalization.
This is what I call creative unification.”

“Follow the water to where your mind leads you.”

“Do what your senses tell you.”

“Sail on the wind of your soul.”

“Flow where your heart takes your role.”

“In us the cosmos has achieved consciousness!”

“We’re the Cosmos itself, no less!
We’re a conscious form of it.”

“We are the universe come aliving.”

“We are magic lanterns shining.”

“From the light that’s never dying!”

“We are the triumph of life, love, and being!”

“We are the smile of being’s elation,
The joy of the universe’s creation.
In us the Cosmos has come alive.
It has reached conscious life
From it’s primordial matter and vibes.”

“We have arrived! We are life from stardust!”

“And we live but for one of eternity’s heartbeats.”

“We owe all that we are to time, death, and star heat.
Truly from the stars cometh our help to beat.”

“Stars are the creators of matter, mind—
This is why they shine.”

“Death is the evaluator, the chooser, but it takes time.”

“Billions of years of mindless time.”

“We have waited to catch light and life a while—
The rapture from Heaven’s smile.”

“Oh! what a joy to be alive.”

“Yes, now we are alive,
And our minds interpret this reality
Into the many colors of the phenomenal, worldly.”

“Our lives, like a prism, really,
Strain the white radiance of eternity,
Like Shelley said in his poetry.”

“While we are here, in this dell,
We can drink a glass of water from the well,
We can enjoy the breeze that wends,
And we can sing and laugh and love with our friends.”

“We can enjoy everything and everyone.”

“I will live for truth, beauty, and goodness—love.”

“Yes, for their own sake. Love, for its own sake of.”

“The stars are eternity’s love lamps.”

“They represent our good deeds entrenched,
Which even the death of night cannot quench.”

“My star’s light is the origin of my being,
The source of my matter, energy, everything.”

“Permanent, reassuring, unquenchable—
It’s my speechless soul, my self-winding mainspring.”

“Energy and matter are interrelated:
The void pulsates in an endless sequence,
For a field is present throughout space immense,
Out of which the particles must condense,
Occurring where the field is extremely intense.”

“Atoms are just energy bundles placed.
They are knots in the fabric of space.
Yet, matter defines the structure of space.”

“Again the Yin is in the Yang, and vice versa!”

“I have a theory:
Perhaps from out of nothing
Came the paired pluses and minuses of energy.
The positive energy becomes matter,
While the negative matter becomes gravity,
Negative because it takes a force, a positive energy,
To hold objects apart which are attracted
By the negative force of gravity.
So, when recombined,
All energies still add up to nothing!”

“That’s ingenious.
So, then, from nothing was written our account!
And back to nothing we’ll still have to amount!”

“Ah, but in between those two parentheses’ bount,
The pluses rain on us from Heaven’s fount!”

( Plus and Minus equals Zero )

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gjSUncQ0skk
 
Old Khayyam

Walking along as the next day flushed,
They came to a grove of rose bushes
In a peaceful setting, those blushes.
Over in the corner of the garden
They saw a grave marker. there-over,
One that was almost completely covered
By the fallen rose blossoms over.

“What does it say, ma'am?”

“It says, ‘Here Omar Khayyàm Lies;
The flower that once has blown forever dies.’”

“He may be the one who inspired;
The book of philosophies sired.”

“It says that he has gone to where no one knows,
That he is buried far beneath the winter snows.”

He read on silently for a while.
Then he bent down a tulip’s smile,
Pouring its cup of dew onto the grave’s pile.

“Why?”

“I’m turning the cup so that dewdrops will slip
Into the ground and perhaps reach his thirsty lips,
For this is what he asked people to do in his quips.”

“Can he sprout anew, as what grows?
Arising like an autumnal rose,
In some sort of second spring’s pose?”

“I don’t think so; zounds!
But his spirit has escaped from the ground
And has touched us each, all around,
And his words have echoed, sound,
On down through the centuries round.”

“Then Omar does live again,” I suppose;
“He lives in the hearts of his friends! He, a-rose!”

“His poetic splendor lives beyond the grave.
He’s immortal; he’s saved.”

It was then that some mourners arrived—
The Procession Of The Moments live:

They all came: sad Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow,
Blinded by grief, and led only by their tears and sorrow.
“Hail, cheer, and farewell,” they said to Old Khayyàm,
“You took from death ALL that life could borrow!”

“What else was said about Omar?” she asked.

“Well, on Omar’s last day on earth’s set,
He was sitting in the shade of a minaret.
The Bird of Time landed near him,
Ate a few crumbs from his hand so dim,
Then sang life’s last song to him.
Omar just relaxed, not upset,
Savoring the glow of his last sunset.

“Then a shining shape, the Angel of Light,
Sought out Omar, to bless him right,
And the Angel said, in flight,
‘Omar, your clay must soon be repossessed;
Let us drink now to your success’,
And offered him a cup, and the rest.

“Omar took it and smiled, blessed,
Ready to meet life’s last caress.

“Omar then lay down on the grass.
A dark shape arrived, at the last.

“It was the Angel of Death, and to Omar it said,
‘Drink one last drought from your precious cup bred.’

“Omar sipped and smiled, then breathed his last breath.
Ever since, and for centuries thereafter, in rest,
Omar lay where the roses bloomed,
But then, like a ghost from the tomb,
His lamp then relumed,
And his poetic spirit spread, like perfume,
Injecting life and promise from Earth’s womb,
Spreading the words of the Rubàiyàt’s fumes
Through all of this world’s gloom and doom,
Like the spores of a healthful mushroom.

“To whom?
To those who would taste of life, I presume.
And so the desert simoom
Continues to blow across Omar’s grave-tomb,
Carrying forth his ancient Persian fumes.

“And every year the rose gardens for Omar sing,
Shedding their blossoms at the end of spring.

“Like the rose, in its dearth,
Omar Khayyàm came hither from the earth,
Blossomed, and showed his beauty, worth,
Charm, and color, in full flowered mirth,
Until to Earth his petals’ worth
Floated back down, to wither in the dirt.

“Omar, as a tulip, was like a cup,
Looking up to take his Heavenly sup,
Then to earth he was inverted, quite used up.

“The stars, the eyes of night, will often rise anew
And look for him, but will never find him true,
For he’s bid adieu.”

As they walked on, the dust spoke to those two:
“Tread softly on me, for I was once like you.”

The Bird of Time landed next to them and beeked,
“I am the moment. I am here. It is I that you seek.
I am the one you want. You’ve found me anew.
You’ve come for me and I am here with you.”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e-Q1ZkgXirc
 
The Name of the Rose

That night the partners lay peacefully together,
Again talking before they slept together.

“I think we know now the entire story of the rose,”
He said, “I suppose”.

She picked up her rose
And brushed it ever so slightly across his nose.

“Why is the rose is so red?”

“It’s the blood that the living earth has bled.”

“Tell me the life of the rose.”

“The rose of which you sing
Rises in the joyous spring
As a sprout from the earth
In a glorious birth.
On the first day that summer blushes.
It blossoms, as spring vanishes,
From spring’s only kiss to summer.
Then the summer rose blooms, near forever,
And laughs with the mirth of a long season sent,
Somewhere between happiness and contentment.
Golden autumn slowly creeps into the scene,
And then the autumnal rose withers, lean,
Its petals falling back from its toil
To again enrich the soil.
Then comes the winter seen,
Shutting the scene.
That’s the life of the rose that thrives.
The flower that once has blown forever dies.”

“What then, is the name of the rose?”

“We are the rose.”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EFBra5apsr8
 
Never was there a Shade.

There Never Was a Shade.

Rainbow oily waters.
Tiny sailboat wakes.
Pull your hair back from your face
and fill my inner grave.
Let’s drive on through till sunset on
this ocean road.
The entire world in round now. Let square
words remain unsaid.

Let us ride this rage round roadway
onward in the sun.
Lay down on me one more time;
cool down my sizzling brain.
And when I’m crying for you.
I will leave one shattered word unsaid.

As sailboats sit on the sunset’s lip your eyes
still hold the world.
It’s more then harsh words spoken, way beyond
my reach.
Truth hammered home the gauntlets thrown.
There is nothing to be said.

There never was a shade that could haunt me
like this day.
This silent lazy road of you and me, our spectred
way.
The sunset heats the hard ground; it’s a world
all in the round.

All the words are wasted on hateful thoughtless
speech.
We will put ourselves on virgin ground and never
speak again.

Smoke is rising slowly my inner sorrow burns.
Never the less the sunset ships sail westward
in the haze.
 
Last edited:
Poor Casey Anthony


Where’s the little girl?
Where’s the little girl?
Where’s little Caylee?
Where can she be?

No one’s seen the two year old
stories are made and changed.
Searches look both high and low
but not a sign is found.

Where’s the little girl?
Where’s the little girl?
Where’s little Caylee?
Where can she be?

Cadaver dogs get a hit
decomposition in the trunk
they learn that Casey’s been away
in the dancebar getting drunk.

Arrested, incarcerated,
losing precisely the thing
she thought she’d gained.

Where’s the little girl?
Where’s the little girl?
Where’s little Caylee?
Where can she be?

Water recedes six months later
a meter reader finds her then
beside the road just a half-mile
down from grandma’s house.

Where’s the little girl?
Where’s the little girl?
Where’s little Caylee?
Where can she be?

A crown of peace
formed of seedlings
grows in skull-matted hair.

Duct tape threads remember
a nose and mouth now gone.

Small bones scattered
by predators’ needs
confirm that it is her.

Where’s the little girl?
Where’s the little girl?
Where’s little Caylee?
Where can she be?

Horrible yes, but
one must wonder
if she had lived
would she grow up
to be just like her mother.



Kenny A. Chaffin – 6/12/11
 
Weiner’s Weiner


Untouchable!
Or so he must have thought
to believe he’d never get caught.
Refusing to resign, I wonder
what makes him think
after lying and cheating and sin
that anyone wants him in.



Kenny A. Chaffin – 6/12/11
 
Starlets


Brittany’s panties
and Lindsay’s common sense
each appear to be missing.



Kenny A. Chaffin – 6/12/11
 
Planktonic

Octopus, octopus, fish, fish, fish!
Microscopic plankton on a petri dish.
Oceanographer’s stare squid eyed and
count the ones that float.
Planktonic in their worship of the herring
larvae’s yoke.

Holoplankton, meroplankton, sea urchin’s
and starfish. Phytoplankton’s handy with its
photosynthesis.

Zooplanktons second cousin to a stinging
Man o' War, riding a conveyer to the south
Atlantic’s door.

What can breathe the carbon and can feed
a whale to health, the paradox of plankton
is its phylogenetic wealth.

Octopus, octopus, fish, fish, fish! More then
just a morsel in the petri dish.

It’s the Diatom that’s worn upon the king crabs bony
shell. Wandering small drifter on El Nino’s heated
swell.

It’s stirred to bubbled jelly on the subtropical gyres.
Tiny micro monsters that can fit inside a jar
 
Nice one Scary! Here's my latest:


What Bukowski Thought


Red wheelbarrow my ass
I’ll glaze your friggin’ chickens
with peanut sauce
in my red-hot oven.



Kenny A. Chaffin – 6/19/11
 
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