Blinky ‘Bill O’Malley: Love Story Metabolites

By | 1 December 2010

Dear Nuala, oh noes,
you’ve left your starting-a-new-life
job in the bait’n’ice for that no-hoping
armed & dangerous escapee
again!?  It’ll just lead to headlines:

Fantasist poses as playboy



Headless body in topless bar

you & that Canadian griefer
& a flirtatious real estate
agent in a getaway, walk
into a bar & you’re dropped
into a sick joke punchline
where the only exit is dead
panning your way out, like
Phil Collins from a third
marriage in a Lear Jet.  Dammit
these poems are sticky, whiffy
too—are they off?  Words
only get you so far—so sketchnote
this Sunshine (though omit
the radical interiority or whatever
it was Professor Whatsachops popped out
at the symposium q&a #drink)
This is a skill—it should be taught
in school, Nuala ;p kthxbai

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