Who the ****, and why.
The owner of the eye
Can answer my question,
Whoever it is that's watching;
Stop wasting your time

46 years
What do you get
Your way past old
Your pants don’t seem to fit
Your always cold
Like day old bread
Your beginning to mold
Broken Hips
Brittle Bones
46 years
**** that’s old

I think
my dog must be smarter than me
he may chase his tail
(even though he has no tail)
he may sit in front of an open door
waiting for me to open it

but he’s happy

therefore, my dog’s clearly smarter than me

Come to me,
Oh look and see,
Please tell me that I don't belong.

To this place,
O' to this world,
To this situation I hath rote.

But negative,
Nay I say,
Tis a situation so grand,
That it can be only sung out in the tongue of yore,
For it is only the most noble of mantles,
Of Fatherhood's door I adorn.

It shall be I,
I be armed with simple tools,
A fresh ***** or bottle,
To assuage my young liege lord's woes,
For betwixt the soggy ure or rancid scitan,
I dread knowing such knowledge,
But my sacred duties of ****** I shan't ignore.

So for now,
Oh humble bards and wanderers,
Listen to this tale no more,
Create such joy and celebration,
For upon this day,
My Firstborn son is born.

(she) "so... how have you been?"
(i) "the evenings arent kinder
but the moon still flashes her grin."
(she) "you're seeing phantoms of her?"
(i) "i swear they're real-- it ain't just gin!"
(she) "of course not... heck, id write a letter
if that'd save your pills from chasing the bin."
(i) "but i swear i've never been better!"

(she) "so you'd rather live a beautiful lie
and wake up in the clutches of a lovely ghost?"
(i) "you call her that, but when i cry
my tears crawl to caress and coyly coast
her silhouette--"

(she) "i mean no tirade nor needless offence,
but i fear your mind is a marionette
and her hallowed mirage but a reckless goddess
of a puppeteer beneath your blanket..."

(i) "why cant you trust my mouth,
which has kissed hers
and ****** her name aloud
amidst moments of wonder?"
(she) "because my mouth and hers
have not shaken hands
and your mind still suffers--"
(i) "i don't think anyone understands..."

(i) "perhaps she hates the sight of you?"
(she) "perhaps the sight of her only
lies in your bedroom amidst déjà vu."
(i) "it's not right to barter my sanity--"

(she) "take your pills."
(i) "i don't need them!"
(she) "take your pills."
(i) "but i'm fine and well!"
(she) "take your pills."
(i) "but she's ******* real!"
(she) "let's be ******* real."

(she) "you're in denial.
you cant stand losing the person
who fit you all the while
because the outline of her reason--
her figure which has fit you
with edges that lined up
in a way too good to be true,
too good to be made up--
are a haunting projection
from your lonely little mind
of its fading photograph
of a long-lost love."

(i) "..."
(she) "take your pills."
(i) "okay..."
(she) "i'm sorry."


(i) "where'd you go?"

As we grow up,
we become less afraid
of being haunted
and more afraid
of being heart broken.
©

Mystery Meat

You'll find it sometimes
in what you eat.
What it is, you might ask?
It's Mystery Meat!
Smells kinda weird,
and looks just like ****.
I don't want a dollop.
No, not even a scoop.
I don't even want it in Mystery Soup.