Beets and Bees are in my
way. I tried to yell but I didn’t know
what to say to summer chill. It still
will stay. I am a Feldspar observing my
children becoming buildings.
I was afraid, at first, when a
“Geologist” took his spiked hammer to me.
I saw that he had two of them clung to his belt. One for sedimentary, one for metamorphic and
igneous. I felt he was going to saw
after me. I sure am igneous.
Stuff along my edge and further
out eventually got chipped away. Even
now and tomorrow and the next day there are and will be chip, chip, chip,
chip. But in your life, there is always
chimp, chimp, chimp, chimp. And when
enough tons of me sons, mesons, ions, my fronts, and my bisons. They
sure got chipped away and shipped away, shipped constantly, continentally,
contently, and consistently.
Instead of taunting, they taught
me to create aluminum slidlings along with their other students creating groups
for their course cores. You think you taught
me. I thought of hues. But not all of hues, I didn’t go to
prism. This course, of discourse, that chorus had too
high of a horse. And more? Have you ever herded a horse? Some of you never even heard of anything
worse!
That all puts me in remorse. Some of me gets sentimental. I sure do keep getting sedimental. As I leave, there are streaks all over the place. This place.
Displace.
One of my kids is the base of the
Eiffel Tower. Another one forms the face
of the Leaning Tower of Pisa. If he took
a bigger step at that time, it would be the Leaving Tower of Pisa. Pissas.
Pits Itss. My boy sure would be
leaning less.
And how about all those people in
those neighborhoods that took my grandchildren side by snide. They sure got took in. They aren’t even asked anymore, “Wooden Hue?”
Neighborhoods should not be hoods
anymore. We don’t want no bark kings
around those houses. No one should be
steeling apartment complexes. Convexes? It sure is getting complex with all that
fiberglass all around.
There used to be windows. They sure became such a pane, for those wind
doughed widows. Douched Tin Too Mass. Debiting Too Much. Debut Two Mush.
I am a rock. You grow hair and yours sure needs
conditioning. The Rock of Gibraltar? Is that your altar? What do you alter? Just brush away my old hair. See how much I owed there? I want to be and am, instead, the Rocket that spouts and
sprouts air. Air is one of man’s many
things. Some of us are nitrogen. If you drink enough of our gin your night
rates gleam. You’ll get visited by my
glycerin.
You guys keep claiming that you
want more atmosphere. At most, what you
breath is what you get. And what you bereft
is what you fear. What I breed gives you
a steady floor to walk on.
Have you ever thought, “Water
you’ll do for me?”
If it’s not too much, it is just
Mere Curly. If it is my aged son, it is
an Old Ceon. Do not a salt me with your
water. Zip up your pants. What you do do do really won’t help those
plants.
You claim you provided for a
bunch of ferns. But they were just
fossils. Rock and Role. Your Role is Your Foggy Soul. When you get faster, you’ll see your foot
sprint in this rock of garbage turf.
When I got my fastener, I ended up between a rock and a magna place.
“So, lead is my like?” you now ask.
The irony now is, this is Ferrous
Rockslides Day Off. Him and I fight all
the time. He thinks he is Ferocity
Ferrous. And to him, I am just another
Feld to Spar with.
You may claim you are an Angel
but an Angle Turn is what Putin meant.
Now are you using Probiotics or Pro Robotics? You sure have Artificial Intelligence!
Someone told me that a
permutation is an ordered combination.
Combination? Combustion! Combine? Come
Bust My Nation! The number of permanent mutations of n objects taken r at a
time is determined by the following formula: P ( n , r ) = n ! ( n − r ). Instead that is a rat, at anytime.
Communist Nations?
8X7X6X5X4X3X2X1 = 40,320
combinations
Elections
In their
Outer
Sell
What the hell we meant Meant for all
1 So Sell Em Sodium Chloride Hate Light
2 Imagination Do It All Night
3 All you minimum Bought Right, or
Fought Night
4 Silly Con Quirks
5 Foes For Us Your Appetite
6 Sull Swear Jail Any Of Ya
7 Choring Pyro
Mania
8 Again and again and again It is me, Feldspar
And I just ask myself, “Can a Bee
live away from her Hive? For a few
days? For a week? For a Month?
I don’t think Bees live for Moths!
What is it that Bees eat and drink?
Are there people that make pets of Bees?
Do you Pet Serve or Pester? Why
don’t you find another insect a boy can
make a pet out of?”
Waddle you bee? Is there a Hive Hive here and a Hive Hive
there? You are looking up a tree. I am a rock made of minerals and I am in the ground. You don’t think I know about Hives down
here! What do you think that ants
do? They live. They work together. They have colonies. They have their own Hives down here. And they eat away at me so they can
live. They make some place they can
store and protect their families. You
have some place you can store and protect your families. What about The Earth and The Moon? What about Saturn and its Rings? What about our Solar System? Just because you have skin cells doesn’t mean
you are better than your neighbor. He
has them too. Just because you have skin
cells doesn’t mean you are better than the otters. They have them too. Just because you have skin cells doesn’t mean
you are better than an igneous rock. We
have minerals. We have crystals. We have ions attracting ions. The quartz veins pushing through me are no
different than those blood veins pushing through you or those meteor showers
pushing through Neptune and Pluto.
To you, alive don’t mean
anything. Because if you understood
alive you would know that comets and quartzites are just as alive as you
are. They exist. Thoughts exist. And we all exit.
I hope you enjoyed reading this Maybe you will enjoy reading THESE
No comments:
Post a Comment