"mylanta" poems
Holograms on my hand gave me a tanned wrist
Diamonds dancing on my fist look like a blank disc
Teriyaki soup with the lemon Fanta
Heavy weight, heartburn: Mylanta.
On my cell phone, now I'm on my iPhone
Now I'm on my bat phone.
Hanging fangs down like a vampire (Twilight!)
Sapphires dancing on my hand like a campfire (Dancing!).
Nov 1, 2013
Nov 1, 2013 at 7:00 PM UTC
tease and taunt
pick and poke
scratch and maul
stab and choke
bring us this
bring us that
hello brother
fill my hat
merry christmas
help a ******
seasons’ greetings
stuff your monkey
i want i pad
i love i mad
i spend i fly
i live i die
text me facebook
email me twitter
**** champagne
and roll in glitter
where is love
an epic fail
why is lindsay
not in jail
give me more
give me more
i want to be
a retail *****
mommy mommy
why is santa
burping loud
to **** mylanta
shred the paper
back to work
new year’s yay
go beserk
another year
of joy and love
return this item
push and shove
was here first
you stupid ****
wait there’s oprah
let’s all hug
holiday wish from
me to thou
holy hell
shoot me now
Dec 14, 2013
Dec 14, 2013 at 11:26 AM UTC
I am glad of who I am.
I celebrate my difference
From those who scam
And lie, without diffidence,
Meanwhile, they are godless
And worship Mammon
In the name of holiness;
A practice that is common.
Their sleepless nights
And bingeing on Mylanta
Belies their image of Santa;
Their self-created fantasy
Of being job creators
When the money they create
They keep, and put away
Into offshore banking states.
With no basis for pride.
They can’t celebrate
About what they are,
They can only prevaricate;
Hire companies to help them
To look us in our eye,
Smile in thousand dollar hairdos
And capped teeth then lie.
Not I. My armor is truth,
Saying what and who I am
And letting others know
Their postures are flim-flam!
And as long as they make money
Nothing is commendable but wealth;
They joyfully create a culture
Where there is pride in stealth.
Oct 18, 2017
Oct 18, 2017 at 12:41 AM UTC