O Autumn! thou hast splendidly array'd
     Nature, whose robes are treasure-rich with colour.
A patchy quilt of dying leaves decay'd,
     Thou blanketest the world with deathly dolour.
I hear a voice inside my head.  I list.
     "Come buy, come buy," I hear in my mind's ear.
The pulse doth quicken suddenly in my wrist:
     The netherworld hath never been so near.
I hearken to the rattling of the leaves
     That hang like vampyre bats from skeletal trees.
The songful birds that nested 'neath the eaves
     Have long since flown away with high degrees.
I'm cold and getting colder, and my breath
Is telling me I'm close to coming Death.

when is is all there is where isn't was
and all the sky's inside a blue balloon
and everywhat is known to be because
too good is God to be believed too soon

then breathing breath doth verily become
(in spite of all the sayers saying nay)
a joy exploding all the threats of doom
since every doomsday dies before its day

March spring showers—
Thunder and lightning—
Hail pummels flowers—
March spring showers
Shower for hours—
Gradually whitening
March spring showers—
Thunder and lightning—

Creation's whole, a single one who's I,
Who's you.  I'm talking to myself in thee,
O my most kosmic self who lives a lie
Called me and everyone who isn't me.
Space is my mind infested with the in
finitely finite infinitum ad
The Word is God and every body's sin
Is mine that ever was and has been had.
God is salvation.  Christ is God who's love
With you and in your shattered broken heart.
Broken, the light within you shines, the dove
Flies free, and everything is new.  Restart.

I am Creation and so are you.  Let
Go and behold the end that wasn't yet.

Alot o ****
spe akstot
hehe art
**** hi sh
ere poe
m hwisp
ers sweetno
things to
thee lbo
w.

!               !               !          !              !                   !                 !
     !                !                !            !               !                     !
             !                !                      85°    !              !
 ­  !                                  all the ra!ndrops!fall except !      !       !
            !                !                 for one!that ra!ns up      !
                       !                  !               !           !              !            !
  !             !                !                 !                         !
                             !                                    !                   !        !
               !                     !            !                       !          
        !               !                                !                               ­  !
   !              !              !                 !                !            !                   !
             !                         !                     !                         !
     !                    !                    !                      ­  !                       !
                 !                      !                         !                  !  
         !                      !                     !                       !             !
!             !          !              !                     !        ¡               !              !
            !                     !                    !                   !                  !        !                  !        🪱     !                      !                !                 !

!hap

pie
e.e.
***

(13
0th)

ming
s' b
irth

day!

Oh, weep for Adonais—he's undead!
    And hath been, lo! these interstitial years!
Yellow and black and pale and hectic red,
    His cockney mood consumptively careers.
Upon a bubbling Hippocrene he's drunk
    And dreaming, standing tiptoe on the brink
Of the wide world that sinks (Byron's a punk)
    As love and fame to nothingness do sink.
An anguished autumn wind doth howl a HOWL
    Of abject grief that sweeps the graveyard's stones.
The sickle moon observes the downy owl
    That eats a mouse from tail to skull and bones.
Zombie Allan Poe, who's green and obscene,
Is sobbing, "Happy Birthday Halloween!"

Short daddy-longlegs
Crawling up the empty wall,
How's the wife and kids?

Two crocuses
Have the whole garden
To themselves.

The mousetrap
Is snapped shut
And empty.

by the light of the m👀n
in the blue @fterⁿ°°ⁿ/
həy ****** dibble,
a cat p!ays a fiddle,
a li'l d●g nam'd Skiffle
laffs like fracking a maniac,
& a cøw jnmps
👁ver a runcible §poon)

Mom says
I'm an inchworm,
but when I grow up
I'm gonna be a f
                            o
                            o
                            t
                            l
                            o                                           !
                            n                                    !    
           ­                 g                               !    !    !
                            w                        R     !     !
                            o                a   W     R    !     !
                            r           w  A    w  a   R  !   !
                            m     R a  W  a A   R  R     !    
                            !!  RaWAwaAaWaRR!!!   !   !
                                    R a   W   a  w  R      !      
                                           w     W   A     !      !  
                                                a     a    R !     !     !
                                                      w    R     !  
                                                                  !       !
                                                               ­                !

There was an Old Man
Of Japan
     Whose limericks would never
     Ever
Scan.

There was an Old Man of Japan
Whose lim-er-icks never would scan;
When they said, "What the fu?" he replied, "They're haiku!"
That Irish Old Man of Japan.

Donald Trump
******* King Chump,
And now he's gonna take down
Queen Clown.

#this #little #gnome
#is #a #pome

The Joker King is joker ing the world.
My favorite food is (pull my finger) paste.
Gertrude's a guy that got his ****** girled.
I'm guided by my (kiss my ******) taste.
Science is racist.  So are roads and math.
"Gender's a social construct," said the it.
Showers are racist.  Take, instead, a bath.
Or don't.  (It isn't racist to smell like ****.)
Cheeba's the cure-all drug, the every cure
That cures the cancer caused by ******* smoke.
Since sugar's such a super food, be sure
To eat your cake while drinking cans of coke.
Ableist ******* can't (won't) get their way!
Antiableists vote for Special K!

Robert Frost
Loved and lost
Much
But never lost his touch.

She spent her time with Mary Jane
     And diamonds in the sky;
She skipped with joy down Penny Lane
     As Rita passed her by.

I am the walrus yesterday;
     Tomorrow never knows
Whate'er became of Lucy Gray
     And where her bonnet blows.

The changing seasons are not more changefull
Then my mistresse; neither more vengefull
Is the wooing autumn wind that seduceth
A singing mood afore it blasteth
With bitter colde, angry and disdainfull.
Her scorne is lyke a scorpion sting painfull
In my sad heart wich bleedeth for banefull
Her who presently nowe observeth
          The changing seasons.
Her cruell scorne capricious entiseth
My heart to dispaire; itt dispaireth
Dailye and dieth from disese most carefull.
Her scorne doth make my harte most woefull,
And so my smartyng heart despiseth
          The changing seasons.

I have a _ _ _.
It smells like _ _ _.
My _ _ _ is _ _ _
And isn't _ _ _.

When I feel _ _ _,
I _ _ _ a rose
Or _ _ _ a _ _ _.
Go _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _!

There once was a fella from Maine
Who added some drugs to his brain:
     He lost half his mind,
     And the half left behind
Was totally ******* insane.

The Honey Bee

Little buzzing Honey Bee,
Honey sweetens me and thee.
Thou art busy all the Day;
Busy Bee, thy Wings are gay.

Flowers bloom and showers fall;
Spring is springing over All.
Thou shalt work till Daylight's end.
Golden Bee, thou art my Friend!


The Beekeeper

Little buzzing Honey Bee,
Thou dost make my Gold for me.
Labour, Bee, because thy toil
Buys my meat and drink and oil.

Thou art mine: what thou dost make,
Slave! to Market I shall take.
Mine the Bee and mine the Earth,
Mine by Right of Human birth.

Fifteen men on the dead man's chest—
     Yo-**-**, and a bottle of ***!
Drink and the devil had done for the rest—
     Yo-**-**, and a bottle of ***!

Gold doubloons and pieces of eight—
     Yo-**-**, and a bottle of ***!
Pockets of coin is the sailor's fate—
     Yo-**-**, and a bottle of ***!

Gentlemen of fortune and fun—
     Yo-**-**, and a bottle of ***!
Have the most money under the sun—
     Yo-**-**, and a bottle of ***!

Got me a ******* every shore—
     Yo-**-**, and a bottle of ***!
Love 'em and leave 'em and leave 'em sore—
     Yo-**-**, and a bottle of ***!

Jolly Roger ***** in the breeze—
     Yo-**-**, and a bottle of ***!
Life is a sport on seven seas—
     Yo-**-**, and a bottle of ***!

Flying in falling
Softly snow, five blue pigeons
And a white pigeon.  

G♾D

There once was a martian from Mars
Named Alfț'drônþopo'gorgg'glìån'nars:
     He constructed a spaceship
     And went on a spacetrip
To the farthest, most alien stars.

Robert Herrick,
Poet and cleric,
Wrote numbers that were noble
When they weren't ignoble.

Frisbee flies
Like a UFO.

Blue skies.

A tic-tac-toe
Of them trails
Called chem trails.

Nanoaliens hatch.

A wonky throw—
He makes the catch!

There once was from Okefenokee
A bullfrog who sang karaoke:
     He sang with conviction
     And a crystal clear diction,
But his tone was a little too croaky.

Father God
Doesn't spare the rod
Or spoil
Any boi or goil.

There once was a woman from Norway
Who'd hang by her toes in the doorway:
     She went to her dude
     And his friends in the ****
And requested a fjordian fjour-way.

Wintertime's hoarfrost, ice and rime
Have gone; departed hath the Gloom.
Make haste, ye maids, in Lilac Time:
Collect your Blossoms whilst they bloom.
What blooms today soon fades away:
Gather ye Lilacs while ye may,
Sith times, like Flying Saucers, zoom.

The shadow of the aloe plant
Is as still as the sunlight
That crawls along the wall.

There once was from Lima a llama
Created by Pachayomama:
     He munched on some greenery,
     Ascended the scenery,
And surveyed the whole planorama.

How many crows
Would a scarecrow scare
If a scarecrow could scare crows?

As many crows
As a scarecrow'd care
To scare if a scarecrow could scare crows.

A dead, flat cricket
Under bright fluorescent lights
In a bathroom stall.

The shuttlecock, served,
Goes over the net.
I'll probably lose
The dollar I bet.

Over the net
It goes back and forth:
It goes north to south,
And it goes south to north.

The birdie in flight
Flits like a sparrow.
She hits it so hard
It darts like an arrow.

I smack it as hard
As I can possibly smack it,
And, wouldn't you know it,
It's stuck in my racquet.

Because of its whiteness
The White House is fattist
And racist and sexist
And thissist and thattist
     And agist and apist
     And probly a ******.

The autumn rain is falling
    Like teardrops from mine eyes;
I cannot help recalling
    With sobs and lingering sighs
               My Fugliana.

The days returning never,
    The golden days of yore,
I thought would live forever,
    Yet gone fornevermore
               Is Fugliana.

With rue my heart is laden;
    L'amour peut être amer.
Nor any rose-lipt maiden
    Was e'er so fair as fair
               Fair Fugliana.

i'm restles§ & laZy
& wirəd & tired
& not ⁿ°ⁿuncraZy
& antiadmired

a little bit manic
& chillaxed as a maniac
i picnic with Panic
& retardədly brainiac

& God as my wittiness
i'm ●ver herə trying
to c○pe with the shittiness
of living while dying

Squirrel!
You scared the ****
Outta me!

The soggy peanut
Unearthed in the April garden
Is full of dirt.

the fall
     ing leaf
is all
the fall;
i call
     my grief
the fall
     ing leaf

min     mal
         i
pr          sm

The cedars mourn,
And Uruk weeps.
Bereft Ninsun
In sadness sleeps.

Gilgamesh, god
And man and king,
Hath come to dust
Like everything,

Hath come to dust
Like everyone.
O Gilgamesh!
Where hast thou gone?

Shamash doth mourn,
And Anu weeps,
And Ki herself
Doth churn her deeps.

There once was a man from Zumbrota
Who'd **** down a 2-liter soda,
     Then burp up a symphony
     By Beethoven winsomely,
From the first bar to the end of the coda.

There once was from Tilbury Town
A king in a Burger King crown:
     Insanely neurotic,
     Paranoid, and despotic,
His kingdom came crumbling down.

There once was a guru of Ind
Who fasted and rapidly thinned:
     They offered him Gogurt:
     He said, "That's not yogurt!"
And broke—in disgustedness—wind.