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Amanda Feb 2013
Sunday Funday
But the next day's Monday
You might feel like **** all day
If you have too much fun on
Sunday Funday
its a blue Monday
after Super Sunday
Americas 45th funday
yesterdays spectacle

the dip is done
the broken bones
of buffalo wings
fill giant glad bags

the ridged ripples
of broken Doritos
scattered on the floor
wait for a vacuums hum

dead soldiers rattle
a melodious cascade
the aroma of flat Bud
plunge into recycle bins

ribbed Trojans
dripping bagged ****
rim plastic trash cans
confirm an ****'s frenzy

the game forgotten
commercial reveries remain
seared into the briney mush
of compliant olfactories

collective hallucinations
successfully branded
a new and improved
global consciousness

Madmen Shamans
ebulliently channel
transactional zeitgeists
from the ripped boxes of
Best Buy plasma screens

Monday morning
water cool scuttlebutt
the planet is buzzing about...

Google's cool slap
of IPod clad automatons
the vanquishers of IBM's evil empire
Apple's brave new world is next
("meet the new boss,
same as the old boss?")

we all dug
rolling with Eminem
through the glitzy
streets of Motown

How cool is 8 Mile?
The hoods lookin good
angelic chorus lifts spirits
Swing Low Sweet Chrysler

The artistic types
faun over
the graphic beauty
illustrious aestheticism

moving story line
the epic journey
of the worlds
greatest brand

heroic product marketing pros
rival Jason and the Argonauts
sojourning trans-formative odysseys
of clever packaging and fat tail shelf life

holding precious real estate
of living imaginations
infecting hearts and minds
of future generations

realizing
everything
ends better
with coke

The State Farm Pre-Game
Jimmy Johnson's new coiff
jawed away with his old boss
rattlesnake booted Jerry Jones

A poignant embrace captured in
living color on grand jumbo trons
lording over a cavernous palace
a new stadium for Homeboys

Jimmy J asks Jerry J
"Why you overpaid
for The Boys New
Crib?"

"A billion 4,
a palace for the masses".
Jerry breaks some news
with an impish wink.
"No expense is spared
for the peeps."

"I always make out,
get a good return. I
make a profit. Ain't
America great."

This year Super Bowl
went Hollywood
and installed
a long red carpet.

Mike Strahan, collared
Harrison Ford.
Bagging his greatest sack
on a dazzling red rug.

"How many Super Bowls
is this for you?"
Strahan whistles
through his gaped teeth.

The aging Indiana Jones
came to promote his new flick,
"Cowboys and Aliens"
(I'm told an early Cannes
favorite. And it should be. Spoiler alert,
the movie is a moving story of an American tragedy.
Romo blows another one
throwing an interception in overtime.
The Aliens return it 95 yards for a touchdown.
Boy's lose again. America's Team vanquished by bubble headed Martians.
All of Texas weeps.)

Indy
coolly quips an answer
whipping with sarcasm,
"after today, one."
yuck yuck
lol

Strahan continues
to stalk Ford like a
scrambling quarterback,
"where will you be sitting?"

Ford shrugs
"dunno,
somewhere
up-there,
I guess",
he points to
the lofty
luxury boxes.
Royalty sits
next to God
in Jerry Jones
house of the
people.

Ford dons a green scarf.
He's down with the Pack.
Another sunshine *****
in the seat.

Michael Douglas and Zeta Jones
arrive in time to hear
Keith Urban sing
"Who Wouldn't Want to be Me?"

"He's alive
He's free
Who wouldn't
want to be me?"

Indeed who?

The parade
of heroes
continue.

The walking,talking
little S Corp, LLC's
dance their way
into the stadium
on resplendent
cushions of red.

Terrific brands
all earnestly
questing to
urgently
deliver
messages
to promote
themselves
and plug
shameful
products.

A Black Eye Peas
teaser
blinks onto
my giant
flat screen.

Will I Am
a black man
in a blacker mask
marches down the street
zapping people
with a ray gun.
(fascist culture is so cool, a
little light on liberation,
but **** does he look bad as all get out
in that leather rumble don't **** with me
outfit)

Jamie Foxx on the royal carpet leaks
that he yodeled three tunes
at a pregame party for Jerry's Kids;
T Boone and the Big W among them.

Quick cut
to Jamie's
new movie
Rio.
(I wonder if its
about Mexicano's
crossing the river?)

Wealth
Power
the perfect
image of ourselves
take a pill

I am Limitless
a new movie?
I've seen this one before.
I think I'm watching it now.

Just Go With It
Adam *******,
Jennifer Aniston
Americas sweetheart
teamed with Americas
kosher jokester.

He looks hot
in his droopy
pretend
don't give a ****
orange sweatshirt
and acid washed jeans.

Jennifer's ****, legs
what can you say
about America's sweetheart?
I think Brad Pitt
made a big mistake.

Bill O
is next.
Posturing,
arm wrestles
with the Prez,
shadow boxes
with the Big O.

"Muslim Brotherhoods
Rendition
Mubarack goes off the reservation
knows where the bodies are buried"
***!
***!

(Do we really need a dose of Fox Fear?
Is there no escape from the pernicious harangue?
Don't they know its Super Bowl Sunday?)

Bill O's drive by continues,
"Obamacare,
why do Americans hate you?"
Great journalism by this Fox ****.

Bill O is
haughty,
arrogant,
disrespectful
a despicable bully
and a self serving blow hard.

(My bladder is busting.
Its a great time to take a ****.)

We escape to
the freshness
of Owen Wilson's
smiling face,
playing two hand touch.

His bent nose
shining
he trots about
Jerry's field
carefree as a child.
(Is this a pitch, pass and punt
contest for A Listers?)

Other stars
join the light fun;
goose cheerleaders
give the cabana boys
hand-jobs
and themselves
a well earned blow-job.

Its an **** of photo ops
product placement
a sizzling collection
of dancing brands
prancing on the gridiron
of the New Cowboy field.

Ashton Kutcher
peeks over the shoulder
of a tweeting W.
I'm impressed
W knew
how to use
his thumbs.

Mrs. W's
permanent smile
was clearly visible
from the stadiums
cheapest seats.

Condie sat
way to the right
quietly stewing
lamenting
lost opportunities
of a gig as NFL
Commissioner.

On the stadiums floor
the frenetic dancing
of the
bumping
brands
fast
approaches
ecstatic elation.

Hollywood's version of
Whirling Dervishes; is
immediately stilled
as the solemn portion
of the program
commences.

The Declaration of Independence
is read by a bright galaxy of stars
accompanying armed service personnel
and other diligent American's.

"We hold these truths
to be self evident"

"United colonies
levee war,
dissolve bounds,
our day of allegiance
lives, fortunes and sacred honor
freedom is common sense,
free, equal, united"

CEO's
imprisoned
in Jerry's
luxury boxes
overcome
with
emotion
pound fists
on the glass
smearing
cocktail sauce
on the windows
of the suites.

Illegal
Chicano's
bravely
step forward
with rolls
of Bravo
and Windex
to wipe
it clean.

The focal point
of festivities
seismically
shifts like a
tectonic plate
almost as large
as Jerry's Stadium.

The stampede
of cheers
thunder like
canon shots,
the patriotic
ramparts of
militant
free market
capitalism
supplants the
shallow frivolity
of consumer slavery.

We are
compelled
to kneel
to celebrate a
Eucharist of
nationalism.

My partner explodes,
"Can't watch a football game
and view it for what it is,
a ******* football game."

The Fox
broadcasters
dedicate
this segment
of the show
to our military.

I squirm in my seat.
Sorry,
but the declaration is about
free people in free societies
not militarism.

Next up
dis old cowboy
Sam Elliot.
He knows
how to speak
the language
of real football fans.
Finally, a man of the people.

Sam introduced the cities.
He starts with Pittsburgh.

"Built on steel
a place where
terrible is good
these are the
enduring qualities
of this great American City."

The Steelers
make a timely entrance
onto the floor of the stadium,
as millionaires erupt
shaking their terrible towels.

Sam's
fuax
folkism
for
Fox Sports
continued.

"Green Bay is Title Town
the people never quit.
Crafty veterans are winners
exhorting all to greatness"

Images
of Lombardi's
toothy grin
fills my 72 inch screen.
A visitation by
America's Saint,
the sanctifier
of all competition
anoints the proceeding,
the quest to claim
the trophy named
for the games
very own
Archangel
of the
Gridiron.

The extended gig of
Lombardi's ghost
has haunted America
for over half a century;
has reportedly been seen
stalking the stage
on Broadway.

The anointed
Packers sprint
onto the field and
millionaire cheese heads
taking big bites out of life
erupt in cheers.

My hi def wide screen
made by Sharp reports
Battle of Los Angeles
opens 3/11/11.
The Chicago Code
premiers on Fox
sometime in March.

Walter Payton
Man of The Year Award
is presented
to an NFL Player
watching the game
with the troops
in Iraq.

The millionaires
don't cheer,
but the Fox announcers
are verklempt
overcome with patriotism.

Michelle Lee,
star
of Fox'***** show
Glee,
poses in front of a
sanitized choir
in blue uniforms to sing
America the Beautiful.

The beautiful song
is but an opening act
for the musical centerpiece
Star Spangled Banner.

The cameras cut
to a smiling W.
He can't get into Switzerland
but ******, he won't be turned out
of JJ's OK Corral.

Christina Aguilera
takes center stage.
She mounts
the silver football
crowning the
Holy Logo of the NFL
to sing the hallowed
Star Spangled Banner.

She fumbles her lines!
She forgot the rockets red glare!
The Steelers are crying.
The Packers are angry.
Ice melts from the stadiums roof.
The foundations of Jerry Jones
new stadium shakes.

A fly over of 4 fighters in formation
appears to be unaffected by the flub.
The planes do not crash.
They stay in formation.

The pilots spare Christina
a strafing and drone strike.
The republic remains
secure for now.

An unfamiliar announcer
addresses TV land.
He offers an apology to the fans
who cannot be seated.

The fire marshals
have revoked
Jerry's seating plan.
Greed got the better
of this man of the people.
Cowboy Stadium
is overbooked!

What is happening?
Is this America?
An ATT commercial
arrives just in time.

ATT has a new plan for America.
They encourage us to live social
with the new ATT AG.
Free market solutions
always work best.

Michael Douglas
reads another
patriotic exhortation.

"United we,
see the journey
of Acme Packers
as our journey."

"We see the resolve
of US Steel
as our resolve.
Big dreams
believe the best
journeys are
celebrated together."
(I'm down with that.
Whats good for Jerry Jones
is still good for me.
Right On! Check this stadium.
Power to the people!
It may not apply to the people who
will not be seated but tough nuggies.
This is America ******. Everybody
can't be seated at the table.
Even if they paid for their seat.
This ain't Red China.)

Neon Dion and other inductees
into the Football Hall of Fame
tosses the coin.
Steelers' call tails.
Heads it is.

At half time
The Black Eyed Peas
descend from
an upper Valhalla.

Still attired in
black fascist threads
The Righteous Peas
start wailing as
white metallic minions
dressed as
Imperial Storm Troopers
gallop to surround
their idols.

Precise formations
goose steppin bops
choreographic steps
the visceral *****
perfect counter-point
to swabbles of wiggling Peas.

Slash,
Guns and Roses
guitar hero
gunslinger
strode on stage
winging
this gal of mine
in choreographed
unison with
the leggy
Fergie.

Pumping it louder
the spectacle incites
the dancing
Imperial minions
quick steppin
and fetchin it
as Usher descends
in white unison
to leap and dance
over nasty
black peas.

The Gods
are descending
upon us.
Their words
have become
flesh.

The BEP's bleat
"kids are dying
wheres the love?"
Art does mirror life.

The neon hearts
of cheap
glow sticks
light up
the time
of our lives.

We are
cubed box heads
happily dancing along
the 50 yard line
answering China's
resounding drum
of frantic proletarians
bashing away
neocolonial disgrace
during the opening
ceremony of the worlds
greatest Olympian
display of
the pounding will
of an emerging nation
arriving on the world stage
with urgent insistence.

In America
we party on
every night
swiping
revoked
credit cards
for express lane
exits at the
local Walmart.

We are proud
highly personal
bar codes!

We refuse to be
marked down and flung
into discount bins at a
Tupelo Dollar Store.

Our light of life
flashes across screens
directing the trading pits
at the Chicago Board of Trade.

Each Super Bowl Sunday
souper bowl beggars
collect canned soup
for hungry Americans
at the local Shop and Drop

begging for larmen
boxes of Kraft
freeze dried noodles
and cans of Progresso
the feast of kings

A triumph
of the
Will I Am
BOOM BOOM
Says
Will I Am

I finish my bag of
Cool Ranch Doritos
and lick my partners
fingers clean.

Music Selection
Steve Miller,
Livin in the USA


2/7/11
Oakland
jbm
(WIP)
its a blue Monday
after Super Sunday
Americas 45th funday
yesterdays spectacle

the dip is done
the broken bones
of buffalo wings
fill giant glad bags

the ridged ripples
of broken Doritos
scattered on the floor
wait for a vacuums hum

dead soldiers rattle
a melodious cascade
the aroma of flat Bud
plunge into recycle bins

ribbed Trojans
dripping bagged ****
rim plastic trash cans
confirm an ****'s frenzy

the game forgotten
commercial reveries remain
seared into the briney mush
of compliant olfactories

collective hallucinations
successfully branded
a new and improved
global consciousness

Madmen Shamans
ebulliently channel
transactional zeitgeists
from the ripped boxes of
Best Buy plasma screens

Monday morning
water cool scuttlebutt
the planet is buzzing about...

Google's cool slap
of iPod clad automatons
the vanquishers of IBM's evil empire
Apple's brave new world is next
("meet the new boss,
same as the old boss?")

we all dug
rolling with Eminem
through the glitzy
streets of Motown

How cool is 8 Mile?
The hoods lookin good
angelic chorus lifts spirits
Swing Low Sweet Chrysler

The artistic types
faun over
the graphic beauty
illustrious aestheticism

moving story line
the epic journey
of the worlds
greatest brand

heroic product marketing pros
rival Jason and the Argonauts
sojourning trans-formative odysseys
of clever packaging and fat tail shelf life

holding precious real estate
of living imaginations
infecting hearts and minds
of future generations

realizing
everything
ends better
with coke

The State Farm Pre-Game
Jimmy Johnson's new coif
jawed away with his old boss
rattlesnake booted Jerry Jones

A poignant embrace captured in
living color on grand jumbo trons
lording over a cavernous palace
a new stadium for Homeboys

Jimmy J asks Jerry J
"Why you overpaid
for The Boys New
Crib?"

"A billion 4,
a palace for the masses".
Jerry breaks some news
with an impish wink.
"No expense is spared
for the peeps."

"I always make out,
get a good return. I
make a profit. Ain't
America great."

This year Super Bowl
went Hollywood
and installed
a long red carpet.

Mike Strahan, collared
Harrison Ford.
Bagging his greatest sack
on a dazzling red rug.

"How many Super Bowls
is this for you?"
Strahan whistles
through his gaped teeth.

The aging Indiana Jones
came to promote his new flick,
"Cowboys and Aliens"
(I'm told an early Cannes
favorite. And it should be. Spoiler alert,
the movie is a moving story of an American tragedy.
Romo blows another one
throwing an interception in overtime.
The Aliens return it 95 yards for a touchdown.
Boy's lose again. America's Team vanquished by bubble headed Martians.
All of Texas weeps.)

Indy
coolly quips an answer
whipping with sarcasm,
"after today, one."
yuck yuck
lol

Strahan continues
to stalk Ford like a
scrambling quarterback,
"where will you be sitting?"

Ford shrugs
"dunno,
somewhere
up-there,
I guess",
he points to
the lofty
luxury boxes.
Royalty sits
next to God
in Jerry Jones
house of the
people.

Ford dons a green scarf.
He's down with the Pack.
Another sunshine *****
in the seat.

Michael Douglas and Zeta Jones
arrive in time to hear
Keith Urban sing
"Who Wouldn't Want to be Me?"

"He's alive
He's free
Who wouldn't
want to be me?"

Indeed who?

The parade
of heroes
continue.

The walking,talking
little S Corp, LLC's
dance their way
into the stadium
on resplendent
cushions of red.

Terrific brands
all earnestly
questing to
urgently
deliver
messages
to promote
themselves
and plug
shameful
products.

A Black Eye Peas
teaser
blinks onto
my giant
flat screen.

Will I Am
a black man
in a blacker mask
marches down the street
zapping people
with a ray gun.
(fascist culture is so cool, a
little light on liberation,
but **** does he look bad as all get out
in that leather rumble don't **** with me
outfit)

Jamie Foxx on the royal carpet leaks
that he yodeled three tunes
at a pregame party for Jerry's Kids;
T Boone and the Big W among them.

Quick cut
to Jamie's
new movie
Rio.
(I wonder if its
about Mexicano's
crossing the river?)

Wealth
Power
the perfect
image of ourselves
take a pill

I am Limitless
a new movie?
I've seen this one before.
I think I'm watching it now.

Just Go With It
Adam *******,
Jennifer Aniston
Americas sweetheart
teamed with Americas
kosher jokester.

He looks hot
in his droopy
pretend
don't give a ****
orange sweatshirt
and acid washed jeans.

Jennifer's ****, legs
what can you say
about America's sweetheart?
I think Brad Pitt
made a big mistake.

Bill O
is next.
Posturing,
arm wrestles
with the Prez,
shadow boxes
with the Big O.

"Muslim Brotherhoods
Rendition
Mubarack goes off the reservation
knows where the bodies are buried"
***!
***!

(Do we really need a dose of Fox Fear?
Is there no escape from the pernicious harangue?
Don't they know its Super Bowl Sunday?)

Bill O's drive by continues,
"Obamacare,
why do Americans hate you?"
Great journalism by this Fox ****.

Bill O is
haughty,
arrogant,
disrespectful
a despicable bully
and a self serving blow hard.

(My bladder is busting.
Its a great time to take a ****.)

We escape to
the freshness
of Owen Wilson's
smiling face,
playing two hand touch.

His bent nose
shining
he trots about
Jerry's field
carefree as a child.
(Is this a pitch, pass and punt
contest for A Listers?)

Other stars
join the light fun;
goose cheerleaders
give the cabana boys
hand-jobs
and themselves
a well earned blow-job.

Its an **** of photo ops
product placement
a sizzling collection
of dancing brands
prancing on the gridiron
of the New Cowboy field.

Ashton Kutcher
peeks over the shoulder
of a tweeting W.
I'm impressed
W knew
how to use
his thumbs.

Mrs. W's
permanent smile
was clearly visible
from the stadiums
cheapest seats.

Condie sat
way to the right
quietly stewing
lamenting
lost opportunities
of a gig as NFL
Commissioner.

On the stadiums floor
the frenetic dancing
of the
bumping
brands
fast
approaches
ecstatic elation.

Hollywood's version of
Whirling Dervishes; is
immediately stilled
as the solemn portion
of the program
commences.

The Declaration of Independence
is read by a bright galaxy of stars
accompanying armed service personnel
and other diligent American's.

"We hold these truths
to be self evident"

"United colonies
levee war,
dissolve bounds,
our day of allegiance
lives, fortunes and sacred honor
freedom is common sense,
free, equal, united"

CEO's
imprisoned
in Jerry's
luxury boxes
overcome
with
emotion
pound fists
on the glass
smearing
cocktail sauce
on the windows
of the suites.

Illegal
Chicano's
bravely
step forward
with rolls
of Bravo
and Windex
to wipe
it clean.

The focal point
of festivities
seismically
shifts like a
tectonic plate
almost as large
as Jerry's Stadium.

The stampede
of cheers
thunder like
canon shots,
the patriotic
ramparts of
militant
free market
capitalism
supplants the
shallow frivolity
of consumer slavery.

We are
compelled
to kneel
to celebrate a
Eucharist of
nationalism.

My partner explodes,
"Can't watch a football game
and view it for what it is,
a ******* football game."

The Fox
broadcasters
dedicate
this segment
of the show
to our military.

I squirm in my seat.
Sorry,
but the declaration is about
free people in free societies
not militarism.

Next up
dis old cowboy
Sam Elliot.
He knows
how to speak
the language
of real football fans.
Finally, a man of the people.

Sam introduced the cities.
He starts with Pittsburgh.

"Built on steel
a place where
terrible is good
these are the
enduring qualities
of this great American City."

The Steelers
make a timely entrance
onto the floor of the stadium,
as millionaires erupt
shaking their terrible towels.

Sam's
fuax
folkism
for
Fox Sports
continued.

"Green Bay is Title Town
the people never quit.
Crafty veterans are winners
exhorting all to greatness"

Images
of Lombardi's
toothy grin
fills my 72 inch screen.
A visitation by
America's Saint,
the sanctifier
of all competition
anoints the proceeding,
the quest to claim
the trophy named
for the games
very own
Archangel
of the
Gridiron.

The extended gig of
Lombardi's ghost
has haunted America
for over half a century;
has reportedly been seen
stalking the stage
on Broadway.

The anointed
Packers sprint
onto the field and
millionaire cheese heads
taking big bites out of life
erupt in cheers.

My hi def wide screen
made by Sharp reports
Battle of Los Angeles
opens 3/11/11.
The Chicago Code
premiers on Fox
sometime in March.

Walter Payton
Man of The Year Award
is presented
to an NFL Player
watching the game
with the troops
in Iraq.

The millionaires
don't cheer,
but the Fox announcers
are verklempt
overcome with patriotism.

Michelle Lee,
star
of Fox'***** show
Glee,
poses in front of a
sanitized choir
in blue uniforms to sing
America the Beautiful.

The beautiful song
is but an opening act
for the musical centerpiece
Star Spangled Banner.

The cameras cut
to a smiling W.
He can't get into Switzerland
but ******, he won't be turned out
of JJ's OK Corral.

Christina Aguilera
takes center stage.
She mounts
the silver football
crowning the
Holy Logo of the NFL
to sing the hallowed
Star Spangled Banner.

She fumbles her lines!
She forgot the rockets red glare!
The Steelers are crying.
The Packers are angry.
Ice melts from the stadiums roof.
The foundations of Jerry Jones
new stadium shakes.

A fly over of 4 fighters in formation
appears to be unaffected by the flub.
The planes do not crash.
They stay in formation.

The pilots spare Christina
a strafing and drone strike.
The republic remains
secure for now.

An unfamiliar announcer
addresses TV land.
He offers an apology to the fans
who cannot be seated.

The fire marshals
have revoked
Jerry's seating plan.
Greed got the better
of this man of the people.
Cowboy Stadium
is overbooked!

What is happening?
Is this America?
An ATT commercial
arrives just in time.

ATT has a new plan for America.
They encourage us to live social
with the new ATT AG.
Free market solutions
always work best.

Michael Douglas
reads another
patriotic exhortation.

"United we,
see the journey
of Acme Packers
as our journey."

"We see the resolve
of US Steel
as our resolve.
Big dreams
believe the best
journeys are
celebrated together."
(I'm down with that.
Whats good for Jerry Jones
is still good for me.
Right On! Check this stadium.
Power to the people!
It may not apply to the people who
will not be seated but tough nuggies.
This is America ******. Everybody
can't be seated at the table.
Even if they paid for their seat.
This ain't Red China.)

Neon Dion and other inductees
into the Football Hall of Fame
tosses the coin.
Steelers' call tails.
Heads it is.

At half time
The Black Eyed Peas
descend from
an upper Valhalla.

Still attired in
black fascist threads
The Righteous Peas
start wailing as
white metallic minions
dressed as
Imperial Storm Troopers
gallop to surround
their idols.

Precise formations
goose steppin bops
choreographic steps
the visceral *****
perfect counter-point
to swabbles of wiggling Peas.

Slash,
Guns and Roses
guitar hero
gunslinger
strode on stage
winging
this gal of mine
in choreographed
unison with
the leggy
Fergie.

Pumping it louder
the spectacle incites
the dancing
Imperial minions
quick steppin
and fetchin it
as Usher descends
in white unison
to leap and dance
over nasty
black peas.

The Gods
are descending
upon us.
Their words
have become
flesh.

The BEP's bleat
"kids are dying
wheres the love?"
Art does mirror life.

The neon hearts
of cheap
glow sticks
light up
the time
of our lives.

We are
cubed box heads
happily dancing along
the 50 yard line
answering China's
resounding drum
of frantic proletarians
bashing away
neocolonial disgrace
during the opening
ceremony of the worlds
greatest Olympian
display of
the pounding will
of an emerging nation
arriving on the world stage
with urgent insistence.

In America
we party on
every night
swiping
revoked
credit cards
for express lane
exits at the
local Walmart.

We are proud
highly personal
bar codes!

We refuse to be
marked down and flung
into discount bins at a
Tupelo Dollar Store.

Our light of life
flashes across screens
directing the trading pits
at the Chicago Board of Trade.

Each Super Bowl Sunday
souper bowl beggars
collect canned soup
for hungry Americans
at the local Shop and Drop

begging for larmen
boxes of Kraft
freeze dried noodles
and cans of Progresso
the feast of kings

A triumph
of the
Will I Am
BOOM BOOM
Says
Will I Am

I finish my bag of
Cool Ranch Doritos
and lick my partners
fingers clean.

You Tube Music Video:
Black Eyed Peas
Joints and Jam

2/7/11
Oakland
jbm
(WIP)
NeroameeAlucard Nov 2014
I've been aching for some action
a lot not just a fraction
my ****** desires are all pent up
I try to ignore it but they won't let up

I wanna watch you strip your clothes off
or maybe wear some lingerie
Maybe take a long silk robe off
whatever you want to wear today

I've been craving your sweet body
your curves so angelic and voluptuous
God how I want to devour your sweet sweet hole
it must taste so scrumptious

It's been driving me crazy
the thought of you beside me in bed
Me right on top of you
thrusting until I'm spent

Me pounding on your lady parts
like they're late on the tent
Bending you over and taking you from behind
your *****, so soft and wet

You laying me beside the fireplace
wearing that long silk robe again
you bouncing on me until you release
just keep going, until you can no longer stand

Oh how I've been aching
to let these desires play out
like I said it's been driving me crazy
it's like I'm living in a virginity induced drought
I'm way too ***** for my own good
Bill murray Sep 2015
Boy: I'll pay you 10 bucks to climb up the flagpole.
Girl: ok.(climbs the flagpole)
Girl: Mommy Mommy a boy paid me 10 bucks to climb the flagpole. Mom: He just wanted to see your underwear!
...Next Day...
(Same boy): I'll pay you 20 BUCKS to climb the flagpole!
Girl: OK thanks! (climbs the flagpole)
Girl: Mommy Mommy today the boy paid me 20 BUCKS for climbing the flagpole, but today I tricked him this time I wasn't wearing underwear.
Mom:



A **** has a sad life. His hair is a mess; his family is nuts; his next-door neighbor is an *******; his best friend is a *****, and his owner beats him habitually.
Unpolished Ink Feb 2021
Bay of Funday
shines in the fog
smoky landscape
wide grey ocean
flower *** rocks and rolling tides
I long to breathe your salty air
and throw my cares into your breeze
feeling the freeze around my toes
who knows, perhaps one day
Bay of Funday
Seeing somewhere I love on TV last night
Evelyn Wilkins Oct 2010
how do you manage to sit out of reach?
your clock's so off,
it’s ridiculous.
it’s starting to BE me.
my whole body can’t take it.
my whole body can take it,     come over.
Dara Brown Dec 2016
Every Sunday
we watch football together
& while we yell at the plays
I wonder,
when are you gonna let me
gain some yardage on you?

Every Sunday
You yell,
That fool could have scored!
& while I look at you
I say to myself
Yes, you sure could have by now,
but like that quarterback
you move too slow
I wonder,
why are we still playing
on separate teams
when we like the same game?

You’re such a fool

If only you knew
how badly
I'd like to tackle you
& convert these last 2 points
by letting you hang
Between my goal posts
rush my endzone
and make the best
touchdown of your life

Tell me,
Can we huddle?
Can we discuss
this repetitive play
we keep pretending
we aren't playing?

Meet me at the
50 yard line
Of your bed

Let's scrimmage
man
Caitlin Nesbit Mar 2017
here we are
tangled up in these sheets-
a battle of radiance
will surely ensue
between this smile on my face
and the light of the moon
Rj Apr 2018
The tears never came this easily
And the future has never hurt
More than the past until now
I lay in my bed quite queasily
And the sky has never screamed
This loud

And my friend can’t see it inside me
She only sees the good and the pure
But there’s more I swear I swear
God there’s more. I’m sure.
Julie Grenness Apr 2017
If Monday was a person,
Maudlin would be the lesson,
"Oh no, not another Monday."
"What became of Sunday funday?"
Yes, it's Monday, so it seems,
Same old dreary routine,
Back to the rat race again,
Commuting by car or train,
Wage slaves, off for gain,
Maudlin Monday on their brain,
"Yes, it's Monday, so it seems,
Same  old dreary  routine."
Feedback welcome.
ymmiJ Sep 2019
getting fit eating
breakfast, lunch, even dinner
jumping apple jacks
Calli Kirra Oct 2013
Numbers on the back of your hand
A metal mental breakdown
"I go to bakeries all day long, there's a lack of sweetness in my life"
And the nights get colder and colder
Bodies get hotter and hotter
The full moon is never as exciting as the last one
Past one, almost two
Three, four, five, find something to do
Call the boys, call your girls
Sunday is funday, and Thursdays are my Fridays
Inhale fast to make it last
This is the best part of the song
Ma Cherie Oct 2016
We are like
leftover love for dinner
have a bit,
winner, winner,
I have a Magic Kitchen
it's really *******'
& so bewitchin'
so much better the next time,
or prepared inside a rhyme,
add a bit of needed time,
reheated for
when it's breezy
or even freezy,
warm and cheesy
easy peasy
nice & squeezy,
accompanied by
a simple salad
a soft playing ballad

we have some
arugula dressed up
& maple roasted roots
emmmm,
so yummy yummy,
for my tummy,
making yummy memories
& love...

a private room for two,
right here a there is a booth,

in lovely pomegranate vintage dresses,
my lovely silken raven tresses,
lips taste of the sweetest wine,
my tongue & you are intertwined,

followed by
Ben & Jerry's ice cream
Sunday's,
& once again love
on Mondays,
every day with you a funday,
would you be

my love come one day?
? Idk ; )
martin Feb 2016
Mon  Oneday I'll be top dog
Have the sofa to myself

Tues  Chewsday all the bones belong to me
And to no one else

Wed  Walksday let's go on patrol
Throw some weight around

Thurs  Throwup day, you can clear it up
I'll sit here and frown

Fri  Dieday for the bunnies,
If I'm fast enough

Sat  Catsday, chase them up a tree
Watch them huff and puff

Sun  Funday, all of the above
For the pampered pooch
Who knows he's very loved
jeffrey conyers Feb 2013
You were more than  a clone.
You more then anyone kept the Temps' rolling along.
Without your sound of sounding like Kendricks.
The group would have faced many questions.

You was the masterpiece needed to keep the puzzle together.
And even now, when we look around.
We can't find anyone better,

Came into the group as Damon.
When you was an Otis too.
You still hold the honor of being the youngest.

You made "Papa" get notice besides Dennis.
And when we take a look around concerning you as a member.
All fans can say you done plenty.

No, you wasn't apart of the Classic Five unit.
But you was apart of the Classic Five seventies unit.
Who could dance just as good as the originals?

From the Young Tempts to being part of the Temptations.
You became apart of the legacy.
Even upon your solo song Funday.
You decribe love in a variety of ways.

Yes, you had an impact on the fans to this day.
And you will have one in heaven.
Otis Harris Jr.  a.k.a Damon, you done well.

We fans bid you farewell.
Infamous one Nov 2017
Hung with my sister ate at a new place. Liked the food hit up the mall got tshirts I've been wanting.  Today was a good day away from my normal lazy day routine. I like o lock myself in my room and write also catch up on my shows sometimes look for new music by artist I like. Music is not the same now a days I can't relate. I like it up beat with a story or catchy hook. I'm a 90s kid so things now a days don't make sense but I'm getting older so things do change.
Twinkle Sagwal Jun 2014
[THIS POEM IS ABOUT THE FEELING OF SOME STUDENTS ABOUT SCHOOL]

OH!THIS SCHOOL
THIS MAKES OUR FOOL
AND STUPID STUDENTS SAYS
SCHOOL IS COOL
ONE GOOD THING IS SPORTS
OTHERWISE SCHOOL IS AS COURT
WHY SCHOOL IS SO BORE?
OKAY!SCHOOL IS SO-SO OKAY
BUT WHY THERE ARE TEST
AND
STUPID STUDENTS SAYS TESTS ARE BEST
EVERY WEEK ON MONDAY
IT WASTES OUR SUNDAY
TESTS MAKES BORE DAY
INSTEAD OF FUNDAY
WHY TESTS ARE ON MONDAY?
WHY THER.E ARE ALSO MONTHLY TESTS?IT MAKES OUR HEALTH BAD
AND FOR MONTHS
WE DON'T DO REST
AND THERE ARE ALSO SO MANY F.A
THEY ARE JUST TIME WASTE
INSTEAD OF THIS THEY CAN
GIVE US HOLIDAYS
AND THERE ARE ALSO OTHER TESTS
I AM  JUST THINKING
WHY STUPID STUDENTS SAYS THEM BEST?
Travis Green Nov 2021
There is something in you
That makes me long
To be charmed by your astonishingness
To rest in the summer sand
On a Sunday Funday at the warm, relaxing beach
Just staring into your divine brown eyes
Dreaming of enclasping your body
Rubbing my fingers through your dazzling waves
Your thick, impressive beard
Firm, fragrant lips that give me
Expansive fantasies of doing
Unbelievable things to them
I could run away with you
To wherever adventures lie
As long as we are in union
Koolin’ and kissing forever
Julie Grenness Apr 2017
Today is the first day,
of the rest of your life,
So how are you going to spend your day?
As it is, indeed, Sunday funday,
And blessings on each of us, this way,
Plan things you enjoy, pastimes,
Relax, it's weekend time!
Feedback welcome.
This is the wind-up,
the weak end of the weekend
when we get the windup,
because tomorrow's no Funday
a glum downright Monday,

if we say now't it'll play out,
but we're a gobby lot
and our two-pennorth have
to be said.

I'm in bed
hoping it's a dream,
but knowing it's not
Jeffrey Schmitz Dec 2019
I reason during the Unholyday Season
it’s a cinch to be a grinch
and my heart won’t flinch an inch.

Away I stayed from the fray of Black Friday
and although it has become passé
to my angst there is no allay
because Thanksgiving Day, hereby coined Grey Thursday
morphed into the disarray of a Shoppers’ Buffet
which we could do any ****** day!
The box stores with their sidewalk camping and midnight tramping
are the days of yore.
There is no more need to endure
the mob charging the store door and the poor falling on the floor.
The human glob stomped and whomped for the latest TV
on this feverish Unholyday shopping spree, replete with artificial trees, whee!
Dullard bore, what was the allure?!
Heaping more interest burden on the dreaded credit card
which they should discard, or slap it from their hand, beheaded ******.
Drool, fool, as you wait in miserable line for the store steward
the minimum-waged-Howliday-caged (I’m enraged!)
to turn the door keys
while the CEOs are home enjoying their organic turkeys
free of corporate taxes and relaxes, you whacky lackeys.
The wealthy make the rules and these tools choose to be their unhealthy mules
programming them for a detour to the junk food aisle - the obesity fuel.
Onward home they return with their gift bales
to regale the tale of their trails of thrift sales.
“More, more!” they craved – adrift and depraved
to wasteful spending they are enslaved
yet they raved how they braved to “save and save!”.
With nothing in the bank, many sank to an early grave.

Further astray, sooner to swipe your pay, it has encroached on Halloween
the sacred day when the veil is thinnest between
the living & dead – violating that scene.
In October we hear tis-the-treason ****** bells amidst the pumpkin smells
and are prematurely offended by Krissmus lights
eclipsing the autumnal nights – having upended their own joyous delights;
dismissing us of scarecrows, witches, ghosts and assorted frights
who now make their debut before Labor Day
when the summer sky is hot blue and we haven’t yet harvested the hay.
Pray they go away and come back another day!

More to the dismay of the Hellidays:
Three days after Grey Thursday comes Cyber Monday
when the industrial purchasing puppets have a Work Funday.
Their wanting faces are permitted to glow in their monitors and phones
haunting different places, items submitted to their carts; most dutiful drones.
There are no deals that are steals!
You are enrichening Jeffrey Bezos
as if he were Jesus-is-Logos.
Instead, let’s chase the former – The Latter Day Not-a-Saint with axes
and mace his face until he pays some federal taxes
and recycles his litter of cardboard boxes!

After an arduous commercial journey, finally approaches Silent Night
December Twenty Fourth – that very special night
before the day their former Messiah was arguably not born. To this some scorn.
Don’t get uptight!
They celebrate anyway and that’s more than okay.
Their tree heights are festooned with Pagan lights
and Santa - the King of Things is cartooned in the snowy white.
He swipes her camel-toe under the mistletoe
which we all know doesn’t make her a **’ **’ **’.
So, by then, the madness has ceased.
Tender & mild, a release - I feel utter peace.
As bedtime approaches she slides a hand on my leg, no need to beg
yes, a clinch for the grinch……
and behold, it does grow…  and by much more than an inch!
Pardon me, but it’s not my hard heart.
As I muffle an odorless ****
I realize God is with everyone and all of it. It/He/She is not apart.
When the midnight hour chimes from a nearby tower
I humbly thank God - my Higher Power
generously blessing me - an aging scrooge
joyously shooting, still youthful & raging, ******.

Jeffrey Schmitz 12/2-Cyber Monday/2019

— The End —