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"boondoggle" poems
From my chair Through the air I want my info now Truth or dare I don’t care Give me info now Hip wired infolites Something bout usage rights Whereas my info wow Flying flags ever knowing Looking back never going Here’s my info now Meaning without content Exists without it being sent The contents meaning slowly dies Contending feeds on sore full eyes Mercy typo pings brindle blogger Immortal mention 2 NSA loggers Wikimaster with google goggles Seeks truthess acknak for boondoggle Give me just a little push My parental burning bush Life lite the snippet deluxe Youtube the world gone amuck
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Sep 9, 2020
Sep 9, 2020 at 9:51 AM UTC
“Infodrome”
I should stop thinking about you when a song plays over the buzz of caffeine drinkers’ talk and I immediately track back to our first dance when you took me in your arms I should stop thinking about you when I pass by the bookstore and see your favourite book, on the raised shelf and remember your fingers as you ghost every page like they ghosted over my spine I should stop thinking about you it’s dangerous during daytime to daydream meeting you around the corner and kissing your neck like I always want to I should stop thinking about you you’re a boondoggle in my headspace day and night, always out of sight but never, ever out of my mind I should stop thinking about you how we looked at stars when we should have gone home how you told me lines from my favourite book and held my hand because you simply wanted to it felt right. you feel like the best movie on Friday nights snuggled up in pyjamas a comfort I would never exchange you feel right. but right isn’t always the end and sometimes we have to take the left turn to find the end of the road where we found ourselves three years ago I still think of you during the fall when autumn leaves drop softly, like I did for you I still think of you on cold nights wondering if you’re warm if the scarf I gave you is still holding up I still think of you during the summer how you would go to my house and ask me to go on bike rides I still think of you whenever springtime rolls around a different place, every break a different adventure, we would take but now that’s all gone memories and stories but we no longer exist and I should stop thinking about you but I can’t
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Jun 21, 2016
Jun 21, 2016 at 2:45 PM UTC
Untitled
I should stop thinking about you when a song plays over the buzz of caffeine drinkers’ talk and I immediately track back to our first dance when you took me in your arms I should stop thinking about you when I pass by the bookstore and see your favourite book, on the raised shelf and remember your fingers as you ghost every page like they ghosted over my spine I should stop thinking about you it’s dangerous during daytime to daydream meeting you around the corner and kissing your neck like I always want to I should stop thinking about you you’re a boondoggle in my headspace day and night, always out of sight but never, ever out of my mind I should stop thinking about you how we looked at stars when we should have gone home how you told me lines from my favourite book and held my hand because you simply wanted to it felt right. you feel like the best movie on Friday nights snuggled up in pyjamas a comfort I would never exchange you feel right. but right isn’t always the end and sometimes we have to take the left turn to find the end of the road where we found ourselves three years ago I still think of you during the fall when autumn leaves drop softly, like I did for you I still think of you on cold nights wondering if you’re warm if the scarf I gave you is still holding up I still think of you during the summer how you would go to my house and ask me to go on bike rides I still think of you whenever springtime rolls around a different place, every break a different adventure, we would take but now that’s all gone memories and stories but we no longer exist and I should stop thinking about you but I can’t
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launched Meghan Markle into royalty American divorcee catapulted from “AA” to “Zed” at break neck speed, and with cachet wed Prince Harry, and soon twill begetting, bestowing, and bewitching her chromo somal thread (complementing, furthering, and weaving together "Quod Erat Demonstrandum", or QED for short) within United Kingdom coat of arms, perhaps naming the first heir Ned, and according one online dictionary definition and ken translates as French (Old English) name Eadmund, meaning rich or happy, and protective akin to a mother hen, not just mollycoddling hatchlings, but even shelling out care on a wing and a prayer long after offspring fly the coop and been fending for themselves, perhaps merely earning chicken scratch wage, assigning doomed fate, sans cooked usage if perchance "chick(s)" go thru a foul stage within their duff fenceless hierarchy, where pecking order doth rage worse case scenario, would presage finding errant peep(s) sent to gaol, not much bigger than a bird cage, unless they comprise noble henny age, ideally taken in as a pet by newly bridled Duchess of Sussex treated like totally tubularly true blue blood with opulent accommodations (cheaply) tricked out with life size Tyrannosaurus Rex (spoiler alert: actually done with special effe Hex with latest computer graphics showing rippling reptiles flex sing and holo graphic smoky mirrors) intending "FAKE" balances and checks to boondoggle aggressive paparazzi, one of whom includes Meghan Markle's ex.
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Aug 9, 2018
Aug 9, 2018 at 7:29 PM UTC
Trevor Jed Engelson Unwittingly...
launched Meghan Markle into royalty American divorcee catapulted from “AA” to “Zed” at break neck speed, and with cachet wed Prince Harry, and soon twill begetting, bestowing, and bewitching her chromo somal thread (complementing, furthering, and weaving together "Quod Erat Demonstrandum", or QED for short) within United Kingdom coat of arms, perhaps naming the first heir Ned, and according one online dictionary definition and ken translates as French (Old English) name Eadmund, meaning rich or happy, and protective akin to a mother hen, not just mollycoddling hatchlings, but even shelling out care on a wing and a prayer long after offspring fly the coop and been fending for themselves, perhaps merely earning chicken scratch wage, assigning doomed fate, sans cooked usage if perchance "chick(s)" go thru a foul stage within their duff fenceless hierarchy, where pecking order doth rage worse case scenario, would presage finding errant peep(s) sent to gaol, not much bigger than a bird cage, unless they comprise noble henny age, ideally taken in as a pet by newly bridled Duchess of Sussex treated like totally tubularly true blue blood with opulent accommodations (cheaply) tricked out with life size Tyrannosaurus Rex (spoiler alert: actually done with special effe Hex with latest computer graphics showing rippling reptiles flex sing and holo graphic smoky mirrors) intending "FAKE" balances and checks to boondoggle aggressive paparazzi, one of whom includes Meghan Markle's ex.
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