Silly Putty, Shit and Glitter, or How I learned to stop fretting and love aplomb

I mold my hopes and dreams out of silly putty, shit and glitter

I’m the second in an incomplete litter

and I’m still a little bitter.

All my lullabies are owl screeches, angels and anarchy

I sleep to the symphonic malarky

Whose name is not on the marquee

The miracles I’ve witnessed are debunkable, gradual and epiphonous

That creator sure put some lips on us

and our tango is serendipitous.

My life is all stand-up, shot down and levitation,

or just a long fucking vacation

in an imagined constellation.

Published in: on February 5, 2011 at 1:37 am  Comments (1)  
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