Thursday, July 05, 2007

Dear self: You got lazy. You got rusty.
Time to step up to the plate
Where is your mother?
On the other taxi. It's parked right outside.
If only wooden spoons were crafted of earth.
Overtop puddings, kahlua and vodka
The three a's in alcohol,
With the "Aaaahh" to wash it down
You've cooked up a spiral
Staircase to oblivion
Put the brakes on reality
This is where I get out.

3 comments:

Matthew Bartlett said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Matthew Bartlett said...

alcohol

Brass Baboon said...

Dag nabbit. Stupid my spellin