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"juicer" poems
Medusa's juicer Used to confuse her - The instructions She said Were obtuse. By the snakes for hair round my petrifying face I swear that This juicer's no use.
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May 16, 2014
May 16, 2014 at 4:47 PM UTC
Medusa Blames Her Utensil
In this household there’s far too much noise!...your mobile, your pager, your palmtop, your laptop, your desktop, your land-line, your radio, your plasma screen, your mp3, your ***** driver, your GPS, your audio-books, your lawn-mower, your toothbrush, your stereo, your play-station, your VCR, your hairdryer, your podcasts, your DVD player, your digital clock, your analogue clock, your juicer, my ******** your drill...
0
Feb 24, 2010
Feb 24, 2010 at 10:11 AM UTC
Nag
"The problem is that if you put a green pepper in with a tomato, it turns brown." Why not try an onion? I ask myself as the conversation passes me on the stairwell Roommates wake each other up now juicing You can't argue with juicer that their new obsession will not make them live to 120 or experience life on a knife's edge Maybe our brains aren't that large, after all
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Nov 22, 2012
Nov 22, 2012 at 11:45 PM UTC
Juicing
you know you miss someone when you can taste them, but you've never before on the back of your tongue wet bones in your mind soft, skeletal, unreal i'm feeling you now, somewhere between my forehead and eyes makes for interesting dreams and frequent days without food. it hasn't been too bad i've only lied a few times maybe six or so and thought of you hardly ever. (i'm hoping that makes up for everything else i've been thinking about) a six pack should hold me over until i can clock more hours until then, i'm a cigarette **** and a half-chewed burger: **** i don't eat meat." seconds accumulate the same way dust will my breath isn't strong enough to blow it all away that's why i asked you so many questions should've used the rear view mirrors before they broke....oh well. something in the air tells me you don't like me back that your plump sides drooling lips are really nothing but an anecdote and everything i've forced myself to feel for you is nonsense blended in a juicer, foamy like a latte nonsense
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Feb 6, 2011
Feb 6, 2011 at 6:10 PM UTC
toilet paper = tissue paper
it rained yesterday and i spent three hundred dollars on a ******* juicer. because i think like a goldfish that forgets every five seconds. or is that ******** is it every three seconds? but regardless i know i can juice orange and celery and apple and a nice spice like cinnamon or ginger to make the perfect drink. **** it. ill save three hundred and by the perfect drink every night for two dollars and fifty cents. a *** and pineapple or ***** tea or sanity and lime. and talk to someone. anyone i wish about **** and **** and **** ****
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Mar 11, 2011
Mar 11, 2011 at 7:32 AM UTC
Hey Mom, I Can Swear!
I thought about you this morning & wondered about so many things. Did you sleep well or spin in between your sheets, dream of anything special, mind draw a blank, drink strong coffee, spiced-tea or have neither? Perhaps you’re a juicer, do you fancy carrots or strawberries or both? Enjoy two Eggs Benedict or three scrambled, have whole wheat toast or rye, some nutritious granola crunch with a bit of soy milk? Did you partake in a quick steamy-shower or draw a soothing hot bath with lit candles & soft-jazz? I’m wondering if you wore your hair up in a bun or let it fall down, all round your pretty angel face? Did you apply make-up or go Au Naturel, frown putting on lipstick & smile getting dialed in for the start of a brand new day? Did you dress to the nines or go business-like, perhaps a trip to the gym for a spot of yoga? Did you drive your earthy VW-bug or rev up the sporty Saab, take the trolley, ride the moped, or hop on a bike? Where you late to your work or did you get there early enough so you’d have plenty of time to think about me? I think about that too.
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Jan 18, 2014
Jan 18, 2014 at 11:55 AM UTC
I Thought About You This Morning (Did You Think About Me?)
he's such a sweet such a sweet old man he's a treat even though his feet smell like dead meat an old ham such a sweet old man still ain't taking no **** wooden nickels! his hands and creases smell like really dill pickles... or pickle juice, as he says, because pickles make their own juice i swear he thinks cucumbers are made from pickles i haven't the heart to tell him and ruin his heaven waiting a place where you don't have to buy pickles to get good pickle juice such a sweet old man 10 dead animals living with him, if you include his wife, and the 3 dead rats in the traps the other dead animals didn't matter anyhow... they were all HER pets, just as he once was her pet he's also going to die soon and not matter it doesn't bother the sweet old man one bit though what bothers him is losing his pickle juicer when his wife died he was sure he put it the root cellar... on the 17th floor of the hospital he lives in now i haven't the heart to tell him and ruin his heaven waiting such a sweet old man deserves heaven the magnitude of the real pickle juice alone, that was better than pickle juice from the old days when pickles were pure and pickle juice didn't have vinegar! made that sweet old man's eyes light up and his heart flutter he giggled, then he died so gently such a sweet old man dying gently such a sweet old man never did take no **** wooden nickels! old ham life never hurt him and death gently tickles
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Sep 27, 2021
Sep 27, 2021 at 9:33 PM UTC
Pickle Juice - The Story of a Sweet Old Man
I hope its a Saturday. I would start by waking up before you do (since I'm always the last one up) and I'd cook you breakfast in bed. It seems simple I know, but I'd start early at, like, 7 am and cook every kind of pancake and egg I could imagine. Like eggs in a basket or cinnamon bun pancakes, or maybe just the buttermilk kind. I would tap the maple tree out back and boil up a batch of the sweetest maple syrup you had ever tasted. Every time you would taste syrup after this, you would think of me and this morning. Then I would cook up all of the bacon I could find until it turned black and crispy (too burnt for me, but I know you like it that way). I'd pull all of the mangoes and oranges and grapefruit out of the fridge, and use that Jack LaLanne Power Juicer, you know, the one that we haven't used since it arrived on our porch. There will be too much pulp for you, but you'll drink it anyway. I would finish up by brewing your favorite coffee- isn't it that Columbian kind?- and wake you with the smell wafting through the apartment (like those Maxwell House commercials). You would come downstairs wondering what was going on, and where I was, since I am never out of bed before you. And you would see a table covered in food with me ironing all of your work shirts for the next week. It would be so **** we'd make love right there, on the dining room floor ignoring the food that was quickly becoming too cold to enjoy. And then I would erase it all and leave you.
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Jan 4, 2012
Jan 4, 2012 at 7:18 PM UTC
What would you do?
I hope its a Saturday. I would start by waking up before you do (since I'm always the last one up) and I'd cook you breakfast in bed. It seems simple I know, but I'd start early at, like, 7 am and cook every kind of pancake and egg I could imagine. Like eggs in a basket or cinnamon bun pancakes, or maybe just the buttermilk kind. I would tap the maple tree out back and boil up a batch of the sweetest maple syrup you had ever tasted. Every time you would taste syrup after this, you would think of me and this morning. Then I would cook up all of the bacon I could find until it turned black and crispy (too burnt for me, but I know you like it that way). I'd pull all of the mangoes and oranges and grapefruit out of the fridge, and use that Jack LaLanne Power Juicer, you know, the one that we haven't used since it arrived on our porch. There will be too much pulp for you, but you'll drink it anyway. I would finish up by brewing your favorite coffee- isn't it that Columbian kind?- and wake you with the smell wafting through the apartment (like those Maxwell House commercials). You would come downstairs wondering what was going on, and where I was, since I am never out of bed before you. And you would see a table covered in food with me ironing all of your work shirts for the next week. It would be so **** we'd make love right there, on the dining room floor ignoring the food that was quickly becoming too cold to enjoy. And then I would erase it all and leave you.
Continue reading...
37
outside Steven sits on his swing set wondering wondering he calls to his dog Juicer but he doesn't answer only the wind in the old pepper tree makes a requiem of filth for that filthy dog dog But isn't dog mans best fiend?
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Jun 7, 2010
Jun 7, 2010 at 10:34 AM UTC
Juicer
Okay Jeff what have you brought in today. Today Mary I’m going to show you the super juicer. That’s a big one Jeff. It sure is Mary, total satisfaction guaranteed. What does it do Jeff. Take this banana Mary, place it in the juicer. What about the melons Jeff. They’re a handful Mary, watch this. My god Jeff, what a device. See how it came there Mary. Right Jeff, what can it do with pears. Well Mary, I place the cream on the pears, what do you get. Ecstasy Jeff, that hits the spot. Now Mary, you may think this is just a juicer, but try it in this position. My god Jeff. Did it hit the spot Mary. Did it ever. What would you pay for a juicer like this Mary. I would pay the earth Jeff. Also Mary, there are three different speeds. My god Jeff, horizontal, semi squat, and comatose. Can you afford not to buy this Mary. I can’t Jeff, it’s mine. Mary, Mary come back, you can’t take it home with you
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Dec 20, 2015
Dec 20, 2015 at 10:40 AM UTC
The Shopping Channel.
lead me to temptation you little bully of tequila, you're better than that, she whispered in my ear and I decided to take it up a notch, that I did and you hit the sweet spot for a little while and that is more than alight take a large huff and puff and then win a game, you nectar ******* juicer ready to pounce on wheat bread, ha lay it out and lay in on, lay the spicy mustard on the pastrami, please please, and thank you, please and thank you there's a song where they call them the magic words and boy oh boy, isn't that a charming notion
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Jan 11, 2017
Jan 11, 2017 at 10:35 PM UTC
Charming notion
William makes fruit shake, William takes pears, William puts pears in juicer, William Shakespeare. Neil arms weak, Neil goes to gym, Neil does dumb bells, Neil Armstrong. 18/5/2020
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May 19, 2020
May 19, 2020 at 8:12 AM UTC
Lol