Please Don’t Kill Us, Phyllis: a Poem

Please don’t kill us, Phyllis;
Pickle dill us in some brine,
Please don’t tip and spill us
When on sandwiches you dine
You find us cucumbersome,
We’re happy on divine.
You decant your barrel drums
Into your Frankensteins.
Down in your root cellar
There are jars of fruits in wine,
A gypsy fortune teller
And a box of turkey spines-
We would miss these summer rains
And this sun that shines,
So we beg you please refrain
And heed our tiny whines:
Please don’t kill us, Phyllis,
Though we’re fat and sweet and fine,
Whatchu talkin’ ’bout Willis?
We’re downhill yet disinclined.



About nitrovonborax

The Mighty Arthammer of von Borax strikes the Anvil of Universal Consciousness, forging Iconic Singularities of Metaphor. Nitro von Borax is widely recognized as the natural heir to the crumbling facade of an empire that Thomas Kinkade built with massmarket hack-retouched cottagey papscapes, which glow as though lit by pernicious chip-grease fires within and trigger pleasurable dissociative transport to the plebian viewer. Mr. von Borax, known to his discerning, sophisticated & politically progressive fans as "The Painter of Sprinkly Sparkles," pulls inspiration from Betty & Veronica BOTH, stolen travel brochures & comic books, Martin Denny & Italian Giallo Movies to visualize and manifest pure unfettered awesomeness for your astral excursions. His portfolio resonates at a frequency only bats can hear.

Posted on September 21, 2013, in Poems and Literary Peccadillos and tagged . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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