Tuesday Pick Me Up
EvilToasterElf
Posts: 1,119
A Walk Outside
In waking dreams the swirls convene,
to discuss epic tales of wandering chipmunks.
Clouds roll by not asking why,
the tax cuts aren't helping to make a longer lasting gum.
From atop their perch the sparrows lurched,
in the way of a neon antelope.
God resolved to take time off,
as man prepared for Joe Millionaire.
The band played on,
to a cheering throng of drunken plastic cups.
And alarm clocks wailed from shadowed vales,
as waterfalls composed Homeric prose.
Around the bend a frog defends,
his ancestral home from legless giraffes.
Wasps descend from now and then,
but are beaten back by the wisdom of the lampshades.
Boiled lobsters fly helicopters,
over fields of growing taxis,
over a river of moles that’s bridged with holes,
the toasters glide playfully by.
Where they pass by a herd of one-eyed interns,
who see their reflections shooting bread and bagels.
Elected fools with stoic drool,
rain dollar clouds over nickel earth.
While laughter escapes from a pebble called fate,
and comets hurl toward another rebirth.
But on it’s way the road is paved,
with layer upon layer of socks unpaired.
And naked feet fall back and retreat,
from the storm of burping sweatshop urchins.
So the stars are sucked in
to the shape of a grin
And physics no longer applied
life shows us a smile every once and a while
If you’d all take a walk outside.
In waking dreams the swirls convene,
to discuss epic tales of wandering chipmunks.
Clouds roll by not asking why,
the tax cuts aren't helping to make a longer lasting gum.
From atop their perch the sparrows lurched,
in the way of a neon antelope.
God resolved to take time off,
as man prepared for Joe Millionaire.
The band played on,
to a cheering throng of drunken plastic cups.
And alarm clocks wailed from shadowed vales,
as waterfalls composed Homeric prose.
Around the bend a frog defends,
his ancestral home from legless giraffes.
Wasps descend from now and then,
but are beaten back by the wisdom of the lampshades.
Boiled lobsters fly helicopters,
over fields of growing taxis,
over a river of moles that’s bridged with holes,
the toasters glide playfully by.
Where they pass by a herd of one-eyed interns,
who see their reflections shooting bread and bagels.
Elected fools with stoic drool,
rain dollar clouds over nickel earth.
While laughter escapes from a pebble called fate,
and comets hurl toward another rebirth.
But on it’s way the road is paved,
with layer upon layer of socks unpaired.
And naked feet fall back and retreat,
from the storm of burping sweatshop urchins.
So the stars are sucked in
to the shape of a grin
And physics no longer applied
life shows us a smile every once and a while
If you’d all take a walk outside.
Post edited by Unknown User on
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Comments
i yodelled that