Asterisk

Fast-forward to a meteoric crunch
slightly louder than a potato chip
Ain’t nothing like the real thing, baby
that’s what they sang into my wallet
Not going to open that whole can
Instead let’s run past the ostrich
make a wheel out of the next 40 years,
a barbecue in the land of milk and honey

Although not nearly enough shades in the sky
still we got off the canoe,
found a nice dry spot

Advertisements
This entry was posted in Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s