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 Aug 2017
nivek
I never married
it would have taken heroic saintly-hood to have loved me

and lets be honest
there is not too many of those around.
 Aug 2017
Mike Hauser
My mother thinks I'm a doctor
I just don't have the guts
To tell her I spent all my college doe
On beer, wine, women and such

So after I faked my graduation
Said I was moving to the South
To help the less fortunate among us
Another lie I let slip out

I'm now in the south of Florida
Where some may call me a ***
Living in a citrus grove along the coast
Not answering to anyone

It's really not such a bad life
This do nothing life I've made
I hear Moms proud of me at afternoon tea
Telling the girls of all the lives I save

I do my share of dumpster diving
That's where I got the idea
Behind a real doctors office one day
With some of their stationary I nabbed

I did a little doctoring
After all I do play one in Moms mind
Doesn't look too lame where I inserted my name
Then wrote my Mom about the kids and the wife

I've created such an elaborate charade
It's now gotten all out of hand
As I panhandle my way up and down
The Sunshine states surf and sand

Mom now says she wants to visit
Can't wait to meet the wife and kids
Don't know how I let it get this crazy
And how it all lead up to this

Now I'm scrambling to find a vacant house and a woman
With a couple of kids that look just like me
That can go along with a ruse for a week in mid-June
Since I told her that's when  I'd be free

I'm thinking I should of studied in college
Instead of being this mind numbing huckster
Telling lie after deepening lie
Just so my Mother would think I'm a doctor
 Aug 2017
Breeze-Mist
One positive thing
About being underslept
In your normal life
And being so wigged out that
Your body doesn't
Know what a mealtime is
Is that jet lag has
A far weaker grip on you
 Jul 2017
ogdiddynash
No tengo - Spanish for don't have*

<•>

woke up bushy and mushy,
"Siri, get my muse on the line,"
wise *** asked which one,
guess she was feeling feisty
as well as girl-gorgeous,
poem perfect on a July 2 Sunday

fake growled and she said
"alright, alright, just a sec..."

"0 Muse, it's me,
it's not even seven am,
got the urge, ready to cruise,
pick me one of my Natman outfit de-skyizes and
let us write many jive poems
let us write till the sunsets texts us

sire, dude,
I'm
just above the horizon,
poems no mas,
unless you will write by
the fire of the maister's grill"

My Muse,
strangely morose, denies replies,

"sorry sire, (she's nice English)
all of the available words
have been purchased until
July twenty tooth"

What, I screamed, threatened and challenged,
must be one of those rude dude tech billionaires,
who think limitless is just another word for more please!

Siri
"get me god on the line so I can maccabee end,
this poetic oppression"

He/She an old friend,
an A list star of many prior writs,
would surely insist that a
special rabbinical dispensation,
could be found to squeeze nattyman me,
a few thousand or so

God  (looking straight at him, makes him crazy)

"so many things I do not have such as,
your prolificacy,
making me jealous that all your poets
rain down in greater quantities
than I can manufacture clear crystallinely
but now is the hour of your power,
the minute of my need,
give me some words please"

the disembodied voice's disemboweled me

"sorry son,
gotta run,
if it is words you want,
suggest get an in with
wordvango and betterdays,
me,  no tengo!
their profligacy,
poems by the hour
have drained the list,
and had I not put a stop to it,
they would have taken them all
till Christmas!"

*So made me some future reservations,
selling them likes suns, 3 for a dollar,
which is even cheaper, (Eliot!)
no ifs and ands about (it)
come see the maister natser,
my words are made of obsidian
and specialty Valyrian steel,
and nobody eats my words
they just-wink at them,
then lift some, a nice steal
cause I never read a poem
undeserving
 Jul 2017
phil roberts
I didn't fall into disrepute
So much as occur there

                                    By Phil Roberts
 Jul 2017
Francie Lynch
I once believed spelling was important.
But that's just stupit.
I should apologize, but please, new age or not, it's like listening to a mosquito in the bedroom in the middle of the night, the crying of a baby on a plane, the all too familiar sound of ***** into a toilet... spelling...
I have this neighbor.
Her name is Michelle.
All I want is for her
To come over some night &
Lick Cool Whip off my *****.
Is that so bad?
Is that so wrong?
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