trying less cryptic spontaneity

but let us all cut us all
a lot of slack for the swallowing
of lies, because the Land of Lies
builds roads easy to fall
asleep on and their cities
make a breath yank all the horses

to hold on and stare in
awe. All this about choosing
one, being one, majoring. Nah.
No pain no gain. Oh Caesar,
come and turn your
thumb down. All this can’t look

there because of being here.
You’re a deep thinker. Leave
clowning to the clowns. Fear of
feeling too good
or if it feels
good it can’t be but

bad. Oh Caesar? Oh but the wrong
people cannot know
of this desire constantly
nagging to try gutter level
taboo tales.
News flash. Always hated

Hallmark. Always preferred
the trashy. Obscene. Underbelly. Trash.
Trashy. Adopt
a highway? Hey go right
ahead. Just keep your purifier mitts
off my rum-reeking littered alley.


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.
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