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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Experience · #1695699
A surreal poem about a memorable Friday I spent with friends.
Like this circle that I sit in now
Yes, that’s how it started
With grayscaled sight and flickering hands
Adjourned and to the bus lot
The first left so we took another
With our prodigal savant
To dwell in his sex dungeon
Where I rode a blood red horse
And strummed a stringless guitar
Big Bird juice boxes grew from my breasts
So that our accomplice could siphon their sustinence
As the helpless traffic looked abjectly on
Traversed the lawn on which a great cross burned
And dropped into Maridia, where caverns wait
With sad and ancient waters
The steady sinking sands proved too strong
Forcing us to depart
We rambled ‘round the crosswalks
Robbed a bank by the drive-thru
But only stole the teller
A DJew lost in his dailies
Who makes $10 an hour
I have no money, you see
He gave me a piece of his chicken strip
As I pondered the secret sauce
While watching our artist make his McGangbang
“Thousand Island Dressing...”
Plus the semen of the branch manager,” he answered
We hoofed it to Moe’s opium den
Where the lanky fiends ate TV dinners
And bought dessert from their stone-carved hero
Mapping cover points among the swings and slides
We prepared for next week’s war
Returned to the streets that hide Maridia
Encountered glowing drunks on the obscure horizon
“Approx. 5 tangos spotted”
I spoke through a borrowed scope
Moe gave the order to fall back, but we were spotted
My damaged floppy feet could not keep up
With the limber sprint of my comrades
I heard one enemy’s footsteps impose on mine
As this agent inquired me quickly, a knife at my chest
His demeanor just as soon was warm and light
And I gladly laughed the spike in my pulse away
One flawless friend, the artist, stayed at my side
Calling birds, we walked in a darkened ellipse
Circumscribed for lifetimes
Until finding a yard strewn with nine bicycles
The mouth of Sophomoric festivity
We browsed the stars on our weary backs
Before being asked to watch the heavens
On someone else’s lawn
I found another friend as the faithful one was snatched away
And in his home, a potent blue drink was drunk
Christened Figure 8
As graceful waves escapred from a harp
We played the game of Chairman Mao
Though rules and swimming sounds
Brought about a needed sleep
And on the morrow, we bought guns
Fin
© Copyright 2010 R. Mendoza (robinmendoza at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1695699-A-Particularly-Good-Friday