Tuesday, December 09, 2008

And there was Too for Whoo

There were wanted and needed or had
Maybe listed if thought of and said

I do not write a letter to Santa or you --I write letters to authors and Sinatras
make cookies with fruit and ginger to give to Fruits and Ginger.

Anyone'll fuck a baker.
Star Fuckers will fuck a Maker.

Someone once told me that.
Once, someone told her that I had made it with whoo.
Quippy conversation, we were protean,
one missed meeting and a Lesbian drew conclusions without cunctation or substantiation.

Molly will not climb on les genoux de santa.
No chuchotement of parfume or laughter.
I won't even have to d├ęsir un visage je sais ou un scarecrow brain.

I am only do do do doing and
no wish no want no lists no Ella Fitzgerald singing haunted hearts into iPods.


Anonymous Queen Diamond said...

Not on les genoux de Claus because
the beauteous one
had had some fun
and married the son of a gun
who disguised his flaws
in the form of a run
in her nylons, and the sun shone
on the Sirens and their claws
in the land where the laws
were as honey to the lips of Molly,
good golly.

1:39 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Let me in
let me in
I win!
You sin!
Has been?
No win.

2:25 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...






"Et, O ces voix d'enfants, chantant dans la coupole!

Twit twit twit
Jug jug jug jug jug jug
So rudely forc'd. 205


11:52 AM  

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