Hangnail feather claw;
I’ll clip those wings.
I don’t need wings to fly;
Your bye is your fly,
Check your fly, guy,
while I fly high.
Rip cord salute,
While you fall down,
I still go up.
giant pillow below.
You’ve blown my cover,
I’ll have to find another.
Bushes won’t hide
five trees in your eyes.
The fig leaf will have to do,
think of the beautiful view.
So, a half-Venus statue will do,
also, I won’t intrude.
No, come and join the party;
there’ll be clams on the half-shell.
Pod-eriffic! Pod-ification of a
prolific pod shell podment of pod-ciety.
A society of pods? Wrong shape.
People are so much more interesting.
Dimensioning and questioning
geometry and theology.
Yes, humans are curious creatures,
multi-dimensional energy fountains.
A creative creation, a collaboration
of completely clownish colligenous junk.
But we’ve got heart, unlike the tin man,
we just don’t use it well.
and a lion that has no courage.
A mind is a terrible thing to waste,
and our fears a waste to hang on to.
Hail! The five-dollar cigarette,
and the eleven-dollar 12-pack.
Hail! The five-dollar chocolate bar,
and the eleven-dollar wine bottle.
Twine and whine,
sin and sing attitude.
Lullaby and good night;
go to bed now and sleep tight.
Matt and Joanne 1/08
Matt and I had fun with this back and forth two-lines-to-a-stanza/speaker dialogue; he got to go first. Thanks to our common interest in this poetry thing, we got to take the two voices thing quite literally. Submitted to dVerse Poets Pub for their Saturday Poetics: Call and Response. Go, share, read and appreciate poets in a great community.