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tommy-johnsonPoems
The Packrat has morphed into a hoarder I tried to removed the monkey in a suite off his back and put it in he barrel with the rest of them even though it wasn't my business, although I was its uncle Get in A quaint little bungalow Where sweltering heat is a constant "There's coffee on the back burner, ya want some?" It was a blessing in disguise A bona fide slice of paradise We read up on the complex of Oedipus Rex and the debate of moral fiber when talking about Ped Xing We hopped on to a plane going to Pismo Beach and joined the mile high club then enjoyed clams on the half shell We listen to a dollar fifty nickelodeon And talked about how music is dead because everyone is just na na naing and yeah yeah yeahing their way to the top of the pop charts Over a *** pie I confessed my love His rebuttal seemed abysmal to my sleeve dwelling heart He said this was an unnatural habitat for him And if we were to be together it would raise eyebrows Tarnish his illustrious reputation It was an unanswered prayer After all the whatnots and whathaveyous He got sick and died of AIDS about a year and a half later He never came out Dodged a bullet there on that one
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Jun 27, 2014
Jun 27, 2014 at 12:40 PM UTC
Easy Come, Easy Go (But Not Really)
The Packrat has morphed into a hoarder I tried to removed the monkey in a suite off his back and put it in he barrel with the rest of them even though it wasn't my business, although I was its uncle Get in A quaint little bungalow Where sweltering heat is a constant "There's coffee on the back burner, ya want some?" It was a blessing in disguise A bona fide slice of paradise We read up on the complex of Oedipus Rex and the debate of moral fiber when talking about Ped Xing We hopped on to a plane going to Pismo Beach and joined the mile high club then enjoyed clams on the half shell We listen to a dollar fifty nickelodeon And talked about how music is dead because everyone is just na na naing and yeah yeah yeahing their way to the top of the pop charts Over a *** pie I confessed my love His rebuttal seemed abysmal to my sleeve dwelling heart He said this was an unnatural habitat for him And if we were to be together it would raise eyebrows Tarnish his illustrious reputation It was an unanswered prayer After all the whatnots and whathaveyous He got sick and died of AIDS about a year and a half later He never came out Dodged a bullet there on that one
tommy-johnson
Written by
tommy-johnson
Colombian
Jun 27, 2014
Jun 27, 2014 at 12:40 PM UTC
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