Mount Fever burned bright
that night
while the beasts and creatures alike
roamed about the countryside.
I in her
and we entwined
combined
aligned for once.
i entice
and she divide
and we collide
that night.

every line
a starting point
to take and run with
to the edge of the sea.
and we see
and we sleep.
wake anew with the taste
of the words
of the ideas
lingering on our tongues.
empty bottles strewn about
jumbled like
the perfect sense
that was
but is now
simply webbed about
my mind like an attic
collections
artifacts
scars and such.

I hate poetry.
I think it's a waste of time.
Trying to think of ways to say things.
And then to make them rhyme!
Some poems are dark and artsy.
Some poems make you laugh.
Some poems make you think or cry.
And some poems are plain ol' crap.
Some poets wear thin mustaches.
Some poets wear fancy hats.
Some poets make up their own words.
Some gilberty hilberty crat.
But I'll tell you this my friend.
That there's nothing in the world more truer.
I'd rather pick up a pen and write.
Than pick up a shovel and move manure.

This is america.
It's a one of a kind.
You can buy **** at the store.
You can bide your time.
Voting red or blue.
Is a favorite pastime.
Doesn't really matter which side you choose.
Like it doesn't matter if a poem will rhyme.
Hell you could write freestyle poetry about nothing
and that's accepted.
Cuz this is america and you're free to be an idiot. Inspected. Suspected.
Slot machines and credit cards
Stop lights and go-go bars
Social security and national debt
Red white and blue baby
We're the best!
Patriots of olde
and punks of New.
World Order abound
The olde ways are through!
By and by
Time after time
Woe are to those
With woman and child.
Times is tuff says the country station
but be the 5th caller
to win this Ozark vacation.
Skoal and Miller High Life 40s.
Marlboro Reds, rap music and shorties.
Sorry shawties but midgets are better.
What's more profound
than talkin bout the weather?
I forgot the original point
that I wanted to share with ya
but **** it, you know what I mean?
This is america.

This **** is hot
bundled up in my bowels.
Oh how it boils,
how it makes me howl.
Bran muffins and coffee,
they do not mix.
Stuck here in traffic,
I need to drop these Twix.
Oh how time drags on
when you've got the runs.
I need a hole in the earth
to place my buns.
I've held in these turds for so long,
I was actually sad to see them go.
Goodbye brown buddies. Just go.