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Salon for Rhyming Poetry - Two
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Poem Number 311
Empty soul but full stumach
Devil may care
I eat hearts for lunch
like them rare
chewy to munch
seasoned with willingness
grilled to compassion
cause I haven't any
Oh well, that's my fashion
. . . . .
This sucks
The chicken clucks
Commentary:
stumach: is stomach, so sorry.
Hard to eat and spell at the same time.
How bout a dinner date?
-------
This sucks, that sucks,
so comment the butt fucks
those with nothing else to do
than decide just what's wrong with you.
-
"It sucks" is such... helpful advice
one day wouldn't it be nice
if those stuck on the "sucks" brigade
some insightful comment made?
-
Hey, "sucks" can still remain a part
of their critiquing of the art
if only they would follow through
with ideas of how to suck undo.
-
Otherwise such comments will remain
tagging, a childish refrain
meant only to anger and to shock
-some intelligence is required to talk.
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