"gorilla" poems
i breathe
one breath at a time
each inhalation linked to the exhalation before it
yet every breath stands alone
there's something tenuous about it
this soft machine is on thin ice
devoured by time in innocent increments
like a moth nibbles away wool
my heart
little gorilla
wearing itself out
rubber glove with a hole in it
weird luck
my eyes are bright
solar blue ball lanterns
if you saw me
you would say
good bones
river of envy
yet all hinges
on a muscular rhythmic pulsating machine
like a determined jaw chewing
jumpy mouth
yet on the verge of betrayal
a glitch
karmic indecision
in destinies wheel house
a red fist locus banging
ones immense sense of self
a vainglorious elaboration
built over a small pulsating muscle
innocuous
dumb blood flesh knot drumming
scarlet tribe
throne of my very soul
great sovereign
old man in a crib
splitting open of its own accord
a sudden rip from life
to a dead sea eternity
the final frontier
starless night
May 5, 2017
May 5, 2017 at 1:54 PM UTC
The long distance beast
is loves touch unrequited
due to the absence of proximity
in the midst of immense tenderness
and edges dark voluptuous
there stands a gorilla in the room
and its name is emptiness
Jul 12, 2018
Jul 12, 2018 at 7:47 AM UTC
Lipstick cigarettes and the empty soul of modern rock n' roll
laid in ruin amongst my collection of black soul addictions and sultry benedictions.
MIDI saxophones and an ex-girlfriend on the telephone
directing me to find my home, to rebuild the comb, to banish the bartender and the Reverend ******
Alamo idiot stand and a neon Jesus
waving newcomers into the whitewashed port town known as "Cuba North".
At the Caged Gorilla, Linda, the waitress,
laughs through yellowed teeth, while my bloodshot eyes crawl up her red gums.
Binge'd and my brain keeps parallel with the ceiling fan
while a plain clothes cop tries to give me the reprimand for nostalgic mischiefs.
Handcuffed and looking for that old fiend, Freedom,
while Miranda spews on the back of my skull, slides down my shoulders, dots the cement.
Out the door and tourists with cameras looking for evil behind my irises,
but I can assure my handshakes feel the same, I'm front pew tame, and I blend with the parade.
Jan 12, 2012
Jan 12, 2012 at 7:13 PM UTC
Sometimes I sit and wonder about the past.
I reflect and let it affect my present- my future-
It makes me wonder if I can ever really put it past me.
Sometimes- most times- I sit and think about what you did to me.
I was never this angry until I met you, I had never lost my temper over the slightest of issues.
My anger was locked in a cage, like a lion in a den, away from all walks of life, because it was too ferocious
too loud, too dangerous to let loose.
You made me feel like a lion.
You made me feel like a lion, but told me I was a butterfly.
You were adding extra security to the cage while making me thinking you were trying your hardest to pry it open.
You forced me to believe that you, and only you, could ever love someone like me-
A lion- I mean butterfly.
I refer to you as my ex-girlfriend even though I can still feel your words caress my skin.
Even though every time I see a picture of you or hear your name my heart still skips a beat,
even though it still feels like I'm a lion, trapped in a cage, as if you still have a hold on me.
I still refer to you as an ex-girlfriend even though you never acted like it.
You told our friends that I was frail- too fragile to hold- too hard to love,
But before you, I was gorilla glass- protective and strong,
But you made me feel like a lion and told me I was a butterfly, so my default mode began to play second fiddle.
I don't think I want you back.
I'm starting to find happiness in others,
Solitude only comforts me when I can feel my anger- the lion within me, trying to break free from the cage.
I've met someone who tells me I'm a beautiful,
Someone who is trying to help me break free from the cage without tearing my claws off.
Who lets me know I am a lion, but I could be a butterfly, and that either or is okay.
I hope that whomever you decide is worthy to join the circus you've declared yourself the lion tamer of is strong enough to say no and walk away.
May 24, 2016
May 24, 2016 at 4:45 PM UTC
*i think, you should stop going to italy, for one, oh **** me, keep going on hedonist piss-fuck fests to places like mallorca, but stop going to italy, you're making my stomach ache from laughter, with what you come back with, the so-called "innovations"; somehow i'd just poach my cauliflower, and drizzle it with fried breadcrumbs, and serve it as a side-dish to fried eggs (2), and some tatties; for goodness sake, even cauliflower cream soup makes more sense, garnished with some fried chorizo!*
first it was avocado on toast...
who the **** puts avocado on bread?
i can imagine putting it in pasta...
but on bread?
hey, what the **** does
the acronym f.a.d. mean?
i don't know, and i won't google it...
o.k. avocado on toast...
nothing near guacamole,
but fair enough...
but what i discovered... pushes
the button where i turn into a fox laughter
(fuchslachen) -
i couldn't stop...
you can find it in the weekend
section of the saturday times newspaper...
written by nicola m.
cauliflower and mozzarella pizza...
you have to be ******** me...
cauliflower? on pizza?
one of my housemates at university told
me an anecdote:
i was in a restaurant once,
and asked for a pizza with no cheese...
he continued:
and then the head chef came out and
asked me... are you, insane?!
a bit like: bread... but no butter?
and i thought i was insane eating a watermelon
today, whole,
the red pulp, and the outer layers including
the skin included, allowing myself
a gorilla imitation cameo gimmick...
but i thought i was mad...
but there's avocado on toast...
and now... cauliflower on pizza...
it's a ******* side-dish!
wait, don't tell me... you're going to put
some potatoes onto the pizza the next frizz
comes along... right?
how about beetroot?
thankfully, if i have some
wacky ideas in terms of culinary escapades,
they happen, drunk, after 12a.m.,
and i'm the scientist, and the experimental rabbit
2-in-1...
a newspaper column?
apparently, you get one, putting avocado
on toast...
or cauliflower on a pi-zzzzz-ah...
to be honest, even though i haven't tried it,
grilled aubergines on a pizza could work...
the toast? marmite and cheddar...
english people should stop glorifying holidays
in italy... they're ****** cooks...
an italian would just look at
a pizza with cauliflower and say: cosa?
i'd suggest heading to scotland first,
and picking up the vibes from some haggis.
**** me...
avocado on toast...
caulifower on a pizza?!
now i can die happy, 'appy,
clapping: encore!
Jun 10, 2017
Jun 10, 2017 at 2:54 PM UTC
Banana splits lickedy his spican-and-span throbbing
peninsula clock jar.
The scar from his far faux **** ignited his beating
hexagonal calendar.
Which is used to peruse the jujubees metallic books in the public
libation crazy train station.
His ecstatic adulation exemplifies why diamonds are
a girl gorilla's favorite soap.
His floating cubed boat is on a remote desert
impala growling at the turquoise toilet.
But his spoiled toys are annoyed about the choice between life or
demonstrative sponsored concerts by budweiser.
Woeful razor beaked birds marvel at absurd his Salvador
Daoist Dharma surreal cereal caramel karma flakes.
Mar 28, 2015
Mar 28, 2015 at 4:02 PM UTC
My gorilla wears tennis shoes
He reads the paper and sings the blues
My gorilla, my gorilla
My gorilla, he's a sensitive guy
I took him out for a wedding, and man did he cry!
Tears all down his tie
Well, he can drive most greens from the back tees
But his putting brings him to his knees
My gorilla, my gorilla
My gorilla loves pork and beans
He rides a scooter in his cut-off jeans
My gorilla, my gorilla
He can make a mean souffle
He's great with omelets, but his specialty is flambe
So I eat one every day!
He's been working hard on a half pike
But his cannonball empties the pool
My gorilla, my gorilla
My gorilla is so much fun
He buys taquitos for everyone
My gorilla, my gorilla
My gorilla loves tequila with lime
He's taking classes at a school for mime
Cracks me up every time!
Well, he's looking cool in his "white face"
And his French beret looks oh so fine
My gorilla, my gorilla
Oh yeah...
Jan 21, 2013
Jan 21, 2013 at 4:46 PM UTC
ALL I can give you is broken-face gargoyles.
It is too early to sing and dance at funerals,
Though I can whisper to you I am looking for an undertaker humming a lullaby and throwing his feet in a swift and mystic buck-and-wing, now you see it and now you don't.
Fish to swim a pool in your garden flashing a speckled silver,
A basket of wine-saps filling your room with flame-dark for your eyes and the tang of valley orchards for your nose,
Such a beautiful pail of fish, such a beautiful peck of apples, I cannot bring you now.
It is too early and I am not footloose yet.
I shall come in the night when I come with a hammer and saw.
I shall come near your window, where you look out when your eyes open in the morning,
And there I shall slam together bird-houses and bird-baths for wing-loose wrens and hummers to live in, birds with yellow wing tips to blur and buzz soft all summer,
So I shall make little fool homes with doors, always open doors for all and each to run away when they want to.
I shall come just like that even though now it is early and I am not yet footloose,
Even though I am still looking for an undertaker with a raw, wind-bitten face and a dance in his feet.
I make a date with you (put it down) for six o'clock in the evening a thousand years from now.
All I can give you now is broken-face gargoyles.
All I can give you now is a double gorilla head with two fish mouths and four eagle eyes hooked on a street wall, spouting water and looking two ways to the ends of the street for the new people, the young strangers, coming, coming, always coming.
It is early.
I shall yet be footloose.
5.6k
Here he comes the big bad monkey banana ****** wit the jungle as his flunky,
Fully equipped with his hundred yard stare and a streak of silver in his hair,
Animals of the jungle kneel to his feets,
Cause he pocesses the strength and swag of 50 fleets,
Not blood thirsty but his thirst varries from figs to berries, here he comes king of the Congo beating his chest like a bongo,
Doughter don't laugh clear his path or feel his raph,
Prime mate top of the food chain when it comes to terror they are one in the same
When it comes to terror he'll make it rain and when terror is spoken bout remember the name GORILLA
Oct 25, 2014
Oct 25, 2014 at 4:00 PM UTC
I was confused
Everything was so confusing
All was painted in grey or gray ?
Hoo ?
Hey ! I asked the gorilla
What ? He answered back
Will you scratch my back ?
Okay !
Then I came across the Zebra
I said it's all so simple
Here it is in black and white
But he's not read all over
Jan 12, 2016
Jan 12, 2016 at 8:19 PM UTC
When I opened my eyes I sat in this body.
The wind ran through thick black hair.
Grass surrendered under my heels.
I didn't hate myself then, or yet, or ever.
Even now, when I part the clouds and look down down,
squinting into the tops of trees that were in my yard.
In the last home I knew, gentle hands fed me food.
We joked and my eyes smoldered for their pictures.
Why did they always take so many pictures?
You probably think I'm angry I had to leave like this.
That with one terrified bullet from two firmly planted hands,
my might and power and God given beauty did not move.
I remember that moment. The air was swept from my lungs,
through my lips, and two angels descended on my animal form.
My soul wound around one of their slender gray fingers,
while the other angel folded up my skin into a cavernous pocket.
We ascended into lush tropical rich radiant paradise--who knew?
Animals are allowed here.
Sometimes I wonder what might have happened if I could have morphed into human form in the right moment.
When I became human, they became animal.
You see, an animal is that which is unpredictable and wild;
terribly aggressive.
But people were scared. Now they have more reason to lock up
their kids behind bright little screens as they push them in secure strollers.
"Look at this game. Isn't it fun? Mommy's here. You're in a belt. You are
safe."
I just heard a sob from below. As I think these thoughts, I can sense
she is crying and missing me, missing a creature she never knew.
She sees God in me. She sees God in everything around her.
To shoot me was to shoot her spirit in the chest, to watch the blood
form in pools while people watched and put away their cell phones
and pushed their strollers to the next set of bars. On to more eyes that hide their secrets from the humans.
[in memory of Harambe the Gorilla]
Jun 2, 2016
Jun 2, 2016 at 12:35 AM UTC
I stood and watched from a safe distance,
A fabulous Silverback strides around,
The strong body and rippling muscles,
He dominates and leads his troop,
He makes the decisions,
He's old, mature and protective,
He's the leader of the pack,
He is respected.
Aug 28, 2012
Aug 28, 2012 at 6:11 AM UTC
I live so shyly it could be
taken as an apology but
it is only simply that
I seek to walk gently
As I live where thick
forest grow deep within
a hidden society places
you will never know.
I am a gentle giant the
King of the jungle a great
power house, walking
softly and slowly.
As you look into my eyes
rivers and waves will
channel and flow
between us.
I sit so still in the jungle
resting so deeply the world
is centered around me.
No human, monster or
giant cat could ever disturb
me my heart strong and enormous.
I am a fortress great castle made
of stone as many softly creep
past me.
I bear my chest a treasure chest
a temple for my heart.
As I open my inflated chest
puffing out my heart I breath
my love into this world.
Always holding a perfect space
for my a green house for
my family to grow.
I have the wisdom of many elders,
the strength strong men and the
touch of a gentle baby child.
Covered in warm soft fur we
hold each other within the
lightest kindest touch.
We know a gentleness can
only be built on enormous
power and strength.
As I am born to hold cherish
and protect as you will see
in my eyes I cradle my
family within my heart.
As an amplified love burst
through my chest I feel every
follicle of hair search to
express.
Although never anger me
never threaten my family
as I will drown you out
like thunder.
I will be all the storm clouds
of your life turning your day
into night as I shatter your
world with rain.
I will grow like KING KONG
curse and dominate your day,
you will wish you never
crossed me.
I am the beating heart of my
family as they all beat inside
of me so maybe no giant is
ever bigger than me.
Don't throw your lies at me
as they will bounce of my
silver chest as I do know my way.
I can be your worst nightmare
the softest mother and the
gentlest grand father.
And all the love in my chest
passes through my skin as
though it was paper thin.
I feel the jungle grow all
around me as I pour my
love into my family.
Give it to me, for all the world
all I want is to love my baby
and I will be so happy.
Living within a pool of amplified
love that turns brighter jungle a
electric field green.
As I really love my family
be careful with their sensitivity
as all their love sponsors me.
But be gentle and I will love
you like my family
as I am the
GREAT GORILLA
Apr 16, 2015
Apr 16, 2015 at 7:59 PM UTC
ghosts of slumber parties past.
just a haunted betamax & a stack of oreo sandwiches.
sisters braiding eachother’s hair far past the witching hour,
contemplating life without supervision.
blue house. yellow lawn.
silverback gorilla in one garage.
two garage: empty.
three garage: a woman entombed in exhaust.
[her bloated tongue]
a gang of bmx boys pizza-fed and friday-high,
hopped up on mountain dew and trading card collectible rituals ‘n rhythmics.
they conjure a demon just to **** and dismember it.
for funsies.
for keepsies.
a fang for the shrine at the foot of the old oak tree.
history on the skin, long history, long thoughts, long in the nod like a calm dead frog.
bubbled, boiled, toiled, and troubled.
the woods aren’t haunted.
you are haunted.
you are the conduit through which the darkness displays its vivid colors.
[treefort aflame]
the seasons furrow/
/ the leaves fall.
little plots of land etched out – subdivision and sprawl.
on the avenue, heaven
& hell made tame and tangible.
built, re-built, and refurbished – a lawn and a lantern.
a mortgaged glory of sparkle and decay.
[dead cat is a new cat is the old cat ran away]
pictograms of morning light display on mom’s face
as she instructs us on the gusts of love [scrambed eggs]
& teaches us the truth of nettles sprung
from violent pine.
[toast with raspberry jam]
the television.
the microwave.
the blender beverages.
hymnals of an electric kingdom.
one mom dances, the other expires.
[restless armless girls in orange sunsets]
girl with a gun at the edge of her lawn and selling lemonade.
girl in an old wicker chair.
save her horror story for another day.
boy with a bent frame bicycle limps his way home
from one end of the avenue to the other.
his pockets full of sparkly rocks found in the lime quarry pit.
one boy in a long line of lost planets.
the driveway.
the refrigerator.
the hum of a saturday night commercial-free cassette.
where’s dad?
the glow of an eerie crystal
(continued…)
Oct 20, 2015
Oct 20, 2015 at 6:18 AM UTC
A pretty blonde researcher
was observing, from a “blind”,
some Silverback Gorillas-
among the final of their kind.
The senior of the silverbacks,
his back turned towards the” blind”,
was communicating with his troop
with gestures much like sign.
“She who is observing us
is a member of that tribe
who fell from grace with Heaven
and was banished far and wide.”
“They were banished from this Eden,
and confounded in their speech.
They then made war upon each other
and have never once known peace”
“Observe, in them, their arrogance,
they think themselves evolved,
Yet they are apes that practice war
and ****** their own kind”
“A gorilla child knows not but love
and tenderness in kind.
Where there is many a human child
left neglected on the vine.”
From elsewhere in the Jungle came
the shouts of evil men.
Poachers of the coarsest sort
with Silverbacks in mind.
“Disperse my sons and daughters.
It’s time to flee and hide
from those who seek our hides and meat
to sanctuary, hie.”
The silverback then beat his chest
and, to buy the others time,
charged against those evil men
and, for his children, died.
Time passed before the searchers
came upon the blind
where the murdered Dian Fossey lay
where the Silverback had died.
Poachers want no witnesses
to their theft of meat and hide
They left with her the severed hands
of one not kin but kind.
Mar 18, 2012
Mar 18, 2012 at 6:00 PM UTC
On the west side of Starlite Dr.,
just inside of Kingfisher -- before the welcome sign,
stood a Wal-Mart.
Underneath dim lot lamps,
dry oil caked the cracked pavement.
Crickets hopped over cricket corpses.
Two employees took turns lighting new cigarettes
with the still-hot embers of old cigarettes.
There were six sedans, two pickups, and three semi-trucks
outside the store.
2 a.m.
Parked car.
I noticed an effulgent memorial on the fringe.
Subject unclear from a distance,
but statue certain;
gleam of bronze certain.
Followed the black chain-framed path
to a lemon brick-backed display:
Sam Walton
Hometown Kingfisher
And there you stood, Sam.
With a bobble of a bronze head,
gorilla arms, and some charcoal
canine frozen mid-pant to your side--
Beams of light shining into your carved eyes,
yellowed grass at your feet.
And I wonder,
Did you feel cruel?
Beginning as a Five and Dime,
then turning into the great killer of Five and Dimes.
Sitting at a table telling all your friends, they could watch you eat.
Too forward, too soon.
You being dead and all.
To be fair, I've got that ambition too, Sam.
The kind that leaves you lonely.
The kind that leaves you in the back booth of a diner.
The kind that makes the dunces conspire.
Yeah, there are very few differences between you and me.
Those being
I'm not a cartoon statue,
crickets aren't crawling on my face,
big-bellied tourists don't pose and snap photos at my place,
I'm mortal, and you're the other one.
Looked around.
Stood in front of you.
Stared in the direction your obsidian eyes stared.
You overlooked the traffic.
And though Target gets all the hot, middle-aged women
and fiery college kids,
you get the pleasure of watching real folks leave.
The tobacco chewers,
the moms of six,
the grease monkeys,
the third grade teachers;
the grandparents
all simmer and meld by traffic stop.
It seems fitting for you, Sam.
Watching over us,
your consumers.
Sep 22, 2012
Sep 22, 2012 at 10:18 PM UTC
How far is it?
How far is it now?
The gigantic gorilla interior
Of the wheels move, they appall me ---
The terrible brains
Of Krupp, black muzzles
Revolving, the sound
Punching out Absence! Like cannon.
It is Russia I have to get across, it is some was or other.
I am dragging my body
Quietly through the straw of the boxcars.
Now is the time for bribery.
What do wheels eat, these wheels
Fixed to their arcs like gods,
The silver leash of the will ----
Inexorable. And their pride!
All the gods know destinations.
I am a letter in this slot!
I fly to a name, two eyes.
Will there be fire, will there be bread?
Here there is such mud.
It is a trainstop, the nurses
Undergoing the faucet water, its veils, veils in a nunnery,
Touching their wounded,
The men the blood still pumps forward,
Legs, arms piled outside
The tent of unending cries ----
A hospital of dolls.
And the men, what is left of the men
Pumped ahead by these pistons, this blood
Into the next mile,
The next hour ----
Dynasty of broken arrows!
How far is it?
There is mud on my feet,
Thick, red and slipping. It is Adam's side,
This earth I rise from, and I in agony.
I cannot undo myself, and the train is steaming.
Steaming and breathing, its teeth
Ready to roll, like a devil's.
There is a minute at the end of it
A minute, a dewdrop.
How far is it?
It is so small
The place I am getting to, why are there these obstacles ----
The body of this woman,
Charred skirts and deathmask
Mourned by religious figures, by garlanded children.
And now detonations ----
Thunder and guns.
The fire's between us.
Is there no place
Turning and turning in the middle air,
Untouchable and untouchable.
The train is dragging itself, it is screaming ----
An animal
Insane for the destination,
The bloodspot,
The face at the end of the flare.
I shall bury the wounded like pupas,
I shall count and bury the dead.
Let their souls writhe in like dew,
Incense in my track.
The carriages rock, they are cradles.
And I, stepping from this skin
Of old bandages, boredoms, old faces
Step up to you from the black car of Lethe,
Pure as a baby.
3.6k
Sociopathic spiritualist
Confused by this?
Ya gettin' the jist
Years in a green mist
Gorilla ****** at the sight of poachers hi-viz
Blatant thievery
Gettin' me irate & militant
Conductin' information like a cobalt filament
Hippocracies imminent
If you don't know the deal look at Africa's innocents
The future for a fee
Monitory
Cold as the Chukchi seas
If your wonderin' where they be?
Let go of Albert Square & check your geography
Menace to sobriety
Rudarellis playin' tennis with the moods it's supplyin' me
Preachin' no class As
Hittin' the mirror like the mans buyin' me
Apr 23, 2012
Apr 23, 2012 at 7:27 AM UTC
*retardation, inflammation, all these kids gettin shot up, diabetes nation. earthquake hits, tsunamis rip, solar flare sun, getting our magnetic polar shift on.
been around much to long to believe all the ******** they are trying to run a country on, think it's about time we awaken, come together and form a new united nations.
grew up in an age where blowin **** up made the front page, trading tourism for terrorism, gorilla warfare versus patriotic heroism.
**** the news, i been hit the with the love struck blues, instead spend my time promoting free energy, "Nikola Tesla's technology abolishes slavery"... Last call to end the fed, freedom for eternity; did you hear Britney Spears shaved her head?*
Apr 27, 2012
Apr 27, 2012 at 5:29 AM UTC
this is the first time i ate
a watermelon, like i did today...
it's going way back
back to the times we
were apparently apes...
so there's this gorilla
sitting on a windowsill,
with diced watermelon pulp...
oh wait, what's in his bowl?
the outer-layer,
including the hard skin
of the watermelon...
you're ********
he's eating that too?
what, ever see a gorilla
peel a banana to get a
babushka jew-head out
from the outer layer?
(insinuating circumcision)
gorilla eats the whole thing!
and he's sitting there,
insinuating: fibre...
excess chewing,
keeps the dentist away...
so between chewing on the outer
layer of the watermelon
(including the hard skin) -
he drops pieces of diced watermelon
pulp into his gob, to water
the chewing dynamic...
what? you do it with apples
and pears, and cherries, and grapes...
the gorilla says:
fun experience...
intermission of a gulp of beer...
it's hard to imagine a gorilla
being the size that he is,
having the cullinary skills
of saying: oi! oi!
don't fry that plantain!
eat it raw!
half an hour it took him to chew
through the red pulp and the outer
layer...
and he thought:
**** as painful on the jaws
as i might have chewed a gum
for 2 hours.
Jun 10, 2017
Jun 10, 2017 at 12:06 PM UTC
Erased is everything as we go into the jungle
No cloths are needed our body's together can cuddle
You hear the birds as they sing a love song to set the mood
My inner lion roars as i begin to touch you
You at first want it slow ,OK with me
So as i go inside you i become the jaguar ready to feast
Going slow inside you that is what you want
The bear came out of me and your juices i begin to hunt
Erased is everything as we go into the jungle
No cloths are needed we can just cuddle
I turn you over nice and slow i thought u would like
How the bull came out me and our body's begin to fight
But don't get too excited everything is gentle until
The inner lion in me just couldn't keep still
My inner lion roars and things speed up
No longer making love we begin to ****
The gorilla bust out your chest as well as mine
There is so much grabbing and holding no one took there time
I become the mosquito and **** you dry
You are satisfied all the animals in us hide
We both lay down and begin to cuddle
Go to sleep to reveal our *** in the jungle
Apr 15, 2010
Apr 15, 2010 at 3:46 AM UTC
My lifetime as a little boy
Was filled with mystery and toy,
With fantasy I filled my head
So when I climbed the stairs to bed,
Imagined I that phantoms dwelt
In every shadow dark and svelt,
In every nook and cranny there
Beyond the landing up the stair.
Clutching hard my teddy bear
I conjoured courage, stared a glare
And crept with stealth from step to step
With hearth in mouth and holding breath,
Big eyes round and tippy toes,
'Cos mother said one never knows.....
Something sudden, quick and black
I jumped with fright and staggered back
Furry skin and almond eyes
I gasped, alarmed, in wild surprise
A gorilla on the landing sat ????
...Oh! weak relief....it's just the cat.
M.
Sep 3, 2013
Sep 3, 2013 at 10:52 PM UTC
Cannibalistic killers
Can at least claim
They were simply trying to sustain
Themselves
On unconventional prey
It's no different than the bush meat trade
What makes you better than a Gorilla?
To me or a cannibalistic killer,
You look pretty tasty...
I'd eat you in a heartbeat.
Sep 15, 2012
Sep 15, 2012 at 2:36 PM UTC
I do understand today is your day
I do feel perhaps you should get your way
I do need to tell you though you are being awfully rude
I do think you need to change your attitude
I do not appreciate how you spoke to me or the staff
I do think you look silly yelling and bobbing your neck like a giraffe
I do care that you made your own mom cry
And here is the part where I don't get why
You didn't need to run around banging your fists on your chest like a gorilla
You just gave a new meaning to the word Bridezilla
Sep 16, 2012
Sep 16, 2012 at 5:25 PM UTC