could do these association exercises all day, all night

sleepy dreams
rock on the train
rolling across another

nowhere plateau where
far away mountains
year around are
tipped with snow

and therefore
set the holiest pace
glad to become

forever deaf
to time’s ticking,
and there emerges
a panel with blinking switches

with which wrong turns
and swerves are only possible
if wished or leave them
all be and kick back,
watch icicles

drip, sip the steamy
brew and slip
back to the entry

to the latest dirty
painting in which
cottons damp with sin
are falling on the face
coated with gravy

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About Timmy the Scribbler

Love to write all kinds of stuff I love writing so many different kinds of stuff it is a constant struggle to narrow the focus to a manageable handful and let the others go. But a few years ago I dipped my fingers into a poetry pie and of all my uncertainties, one thing that is no uncertainty is that it is one passion that must remain, so maybe that's the one. I do dearly delight in chopping up fictional works into stanzas and syllables.
This entry was posted in exercise, poem, poetry, practice and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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