1. Wednesday, February 23, 2005

    poetry wednesday 

    pink haired girl

    you come to me and how cant i fall in love
    pouty lips and complaints
    my god the dance
    of looks to your toes and back at me
    i know my eyes
    arent made of bad memories
    and still you flinch
    i dont even mind the boring brown lipstick look
    and powder guck that you seem to adore

    and of course i see thru those sunglasses
    move your fat ass and quit acting
    like your velvet panties i wanna see a girl
    not a music box ballerina whose
    never been fingered in a backseat valhalla
    how long you been in america

    fairies are fun but come on
    and i wondered what old ladies
    who brush their poodles looked like
    when they were in art school

    bacon whores + buzzmachine + flaming mound of shit extinguished after four months