Very Bad Archive
oct07
julia flores
The merry-go-rounds are quiet; the castle looms. (Wonder what's inside?)
Reeking with hormones the olive tree stood long engaged with dustiness.
The smallest thought in the day becomes a dream of dirty ice-cube trays. And two young men, one of whom spoke magically about the moon, and...certain business ventures. LOL.
Intracacies of elven words only can describe the moon's business.
On a lawn of truth under a sky of lies sits a picnic of doubt.
Maybe God's a squirrel. It certainly seems...(but not in walnut trees.)
What are these? Jelly diamonds, sugar crystals, plastic facets? Light planes?
There's something nice about peanut shells - the smell of bright golden wheat stalks.
The smoke alarm flashed - a squirrel ran out of it to my bed. I screamed.
Fortunately, my fortune cookie is empty, but it's still tasty.
Immediacy wipes out thoughts of the future but zips toward it quick.
There are some dog genes in me that wake up during a very full moon.
My deficiencies bother me; but a hamster isn't a flower.
julia flores has published 2 more terrible poems since joining on 30/11/99. Read more of julia's terrible poetry at the anthology. Here are three of julia's latest works: