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Robert Varblow
Thousand Oaks, CA    I better be a poet or lay down dead.
The Cold Wind Blows
Minnie Blow

Poems

The Good Pussy  Aug 2015
Blow Pop
The Good Pussy Aug 2015
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                                    Blow
                             Blow   Blow
                           Blow Blow Blow
                         Blow Blow Blow B
                           Blow Blow Blow
                           Blow Blow Blow
                           Blow Blow Blow
                           Blow Blow Blow
                           Blow Blow Blow
                           Blow Blow Blow
                           Blow Blow Blow
                           Blow Blow Blow
                           Blow Blow Blow
                           Blow Blow Blow
                           Blow Blow Blow
                           Blow Blow Blow
                Blow Blow         Blow Blow
           Blow Blow Blow  Blow Blow Blow
       Blow Blow Blow Blow Blow Blow Blow
         Blow Blow Blow     Blow Blow Blow
             Blow Blow                Blow Blow
Hookers and blow, hookers and blow
Welcome, welcome to Hookers & Blow
Come on in, we’ve got hookers and blow
Hookers and blow

Gotta get my hookers and blow
Don’t you know? Hookers and blow
Haven’t you heard? Hookers and blow
Hookers and blow

Get some today! Hookers and blow
Sir or Madam, hookers and blow
Everyone’s on some hookers and blow
Hookers and blow

The whole world over
Hookers and blow
Hookers and blow
Hookers and blow

Gotta get a taste of hookers and blow
Never get sick of hookers and blow
Never had better hookers and blow
Hookers and blow

His mouth is full of hookers and blow
Her hair is full of hookers and blow
My soul is full of hookers and blow
Hookers and blow

I am so sick of
Can’t get enough of
Wanna be the best at
We are just the best at

Hookers and blow
Hookers and blow
Hookers and blow
Hookers and blow

Can’t live without my hookers and blow
Hookers and blow, hookers and blow
Make me out of hookers and blow
Hookers and blow

Hang me from your nostrils
Stick me up your tailpipe
Bag me up and sell me
Some more of those hookers and blow
It began normal enough.
Everything was the same.
Everything was there.
The winds came.
Windy Windy
Blow Blow
It rained a little.
My umbrella was useless.
Windy Windy
Blow Blow
There were sirens in the air.
Class was cancelled.
I went to my apartment.
Too much wind then.
It messed up my hair.
That windy brother of mine.
He was violent and angry.
Windy Windy
Blow Blow
A tornado came to visit.
Came right over my head.
Windy Windy Windy
Blow Blow Blow
I was afraid.
The power was gone.
I hid from the tornado.
Windy Windy Windy
Blow Blow Blow
Part of my window vanished
right before my eyes.
There was a roar.
There was a trembling.
Windy Windy Windy
Blow Blow
The worse was over,
for now.
I ventured outside.
The people in my complex survived.
Their cars...not so much.
A tree through one apartment
a branch through the car.
My car, Windrider,
all the windows gone except the windshield.
Windy
Blow
Beyond my apartment
Everything is gone.
On April 27, 2011, there was a large tornado that tore through Tuscaloosa. I wrote some poetry about my experience and made it into a small booklet. One thing I remember from that day was how strong the wind blew. I couldn't use my umbrella.