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Archive for the ‘Quasimofo Snyder’ Category

By Quasimofo Snyder

“i am not who i think i am” thought the protagonist
sitting on a piano stool with no trousers waiting
for trashday when Gabriel might blow the amp
on his Mother of Pearl Fender Strat.
What joyful ode do i lipsinc my 2% regretfulness
nestling wholesome sin skimming true vidal sassoon
repentence?
[he always found it easier to confess his ultra split ends
violence in a mullet salon decked out in art deco].
{And he couldn’t stomach Art Nouveau anymore
since his lactose intolerant Goth girlfriend had left him
for the manager of Toys-R-Us}.
An ode a day will keep the joy at bay, he would trill…
for it’s best kept in season far from trespass, reason,
and treason.
Get both palms inked at Droog’s Tattoo Parlor
–one that reads “I love you?”
–and the other one says “Say ‘hello’ to slappy!”
They’re interchangeable.
But as he got older, he considered buying an inept
yet loyal monkey who would take his B-day spankings
for him. He began to doubt the redoubt of his
homogenized faith.
He would go to furniture stores just to turn the tables.
He would dress up like a spaceman to take his toy raygun
into the Laser Care Center.
The cops couldn’t do anything with him.
Finally one evening while he was frolicking in the forest
with an escaped mental derangee posing as the Greek
demi-god Pan, aliens disguised as butterflies caught him
in their net and he found true belonging as the prize stud
in their collection.
Yes, he lived in a Bio dome habitat refuge flowing with milk,
honey, and spunky roller derby gals located on the planet
Exoticamart. And there these voluptuous beauties grilled
steaks and potatoes for him and carressed his brow till all
of his worries about life and existence washed down
the gutter of his inner abbreviated annotated index
smoldering in the metaphorical midnight second sun.
Sometimes it’s best to forget reference.

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By Quasimofo Snyder

“God Save Our Indie-Queen! She ain’t no refried bean!”
I hollered as we beat the flying fuck out of ROY G. BIV
cramming Skittles down his gristmill throat…
“Taste this rainbow, motherfucker!”
…It was an artsy offshoot derived from
male protagonists in a vermilion oxblood novel..
uh huh, ..the one gotcheyed caper where we bought up
the town’s supply of Talking Heads Best-Of’s
and made off with a balled-out floorboard
full of push-up bras and grannie panties,,,,,,,,
like an escape-from homemade flick barging into
Fundamental Baptist Churches where
they speak to and give you the tongue-it ended up on YouPorn.

“Truth be told, some only discover truth when they’re old.”
Zooey mumbled in her eccentric-laywoman magenta droll
…the kind that plugs up leaking dykes with more than sore thumbs…
Along the machiladora grid, the migrant lingerie factory
employees were handed their pink slips
[with black lace] and given winning lottery tickets on the Cerulean
recycled fiber of indecent exposure citations…
Learn to leave our well-done well-enough alone
with its bone or we’ll sick our 8o’s god-child on you,
Mister Docrates!

But ho Luscious! Where’s that knee-slapper toe-tapper
drama action giveaway suspense?
We want only clean dirt for this mix of mud
to get our fill in the azure kiwi turquoise
filth-slingling
rightwing leftwing battling a bi-polar bear
with a long queue of porta-potty redneck voting booths
which leave incontestable paper trails
[ut oh, one’s missing..someone used it as a spaceshuttle!].
Do we have time to hash out this hash heesh
in an OpEd Letter to the editor
enflaming the community only after the burn ban is lifted?
The bottom of the totem pole is a good place when
the world goes topsy-turvy, you see.
Though one might imagine it’s hard to potty train
a despot who’s a sexpot.
What trailer park are you from? Again?
…cause a dollar in your box of jukes equals two plays

when 2 plays only equals one song…

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By Quasimofo Snyder

Sometimes, it’s not whether the glass is half full or half empty,
but whether you even have a glass…
Damn it me!

The earth is round but my world-view has flatlined—————
IT’S EVERY CONDEMNED CAST-OUT FOR HIM/HER/SELF!!!
CAUSE THIS IS ANOTHER ESKIMO BAPTISM GONE BAD!!!
You and only you are in charge of your own rehab..
..oh spastic bejesus! it’s so hard to get out what i got in.
..Internal combustion engines will run off cappuccino makers
and the phases of the moon will appear all at once
before rebirth is converted into pizzazz-zapping riddle-solvent..

Shackle a poetic spambot and it might sputter:

unhinged jollity waking generation repeats cream of crop

circles tickle tort you are belated uproarious waiting .

There are many menial communes tucked away within
the gated confines of our misdo gray matter pitter-patter
slates written with an unmind to cross the T-bones and
dot the eyewitness newsrooms..

For Example: if your step dad treated you like an idiot
while doing carpentry,
you are gonna grow up not wanting to do carpentry…
and be destined to live ball-and-chain in a run-down
fix-em-up ramshack shanty.
Do you got enough gauze for this pooch on the prowl?
Did you know there are free psych-evals on facebook
–object embedding particle rarities that fulfill or kill?

Your life lesson is to learn your life lessons..
Any questions?

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