testing, check, check, cash or credit? poetry, trips, and legalities

On reaching tree roads
my mind reaches, climbs
bright golden-limbed leaves.
I am another place

envisioning creamsicle throat laughs
and shuffled hourglasses of radio static
which deal out some rev. Love is not
like chalk. Here it sets giddy
stonework in a cathedralled journey
on red-glow slick streets.

I'm laughed at low, but in sympathetic
vents warming giggles and perspective
where I'm sad. Slick streets
and factory lights, we put up
parking brakes under lampposts
and inspect, inspect, inspect

the present. I return to the
limosine at the foot of the trees
and break my leg on the blue
firmament in the knuckle-scraping
fall from the heavens.


all right, im no poet. but this poem went through almost being lost, drowned in the ocean, forgotten, and eaten by blogger, yet survived and so it deserves some recognition. (if this post somehow duplicates itself, dont be surprised. but do be annoyed.) and where better to put some object masquerading as a poem than here on the internet, where you can't see faces and we are all masquerading as grandeur?

Your Personality Is Like Cocaine

You're dynamic, brilliant, and alluring to those who don't know you. Hyper and full of energy, you're usually the last one to leave a party. Sometimes your sharp mind gets the better of you... you're a bit paranoid!

What Drug Is Your Personality Like?

hilarious. and worthless. but amusing. my only addiction is guitar. here, have a quiz for yourselves:

A QUIZ!

hope you enjoyed. yesterday made for at least 1 good sermon and 2 months of the best day ever. in closing, have some Weird Al lyrics, since we apparently share the same musical tastes. (see previous posts.)

WEIRD AL

see yall from court.