poppies

This is a new version.

poppies

the sunset petals gone
poppies laughed in my garden, longing, lonely days since
their faces, smile and texture, no longer clear
slender bodies swaying to evening breezes, sensual memory

an old poem

Laughter

Reading poetry, the words so carefully

aligned and placed,

I can't help but feel the poets

hysterical over the jokes they've played.

To gain and graps the attention of thousands,

perhaps even more,

with the description of a though, a mood,

a dirty scene.

Certainaly they are all laughing

at me, and at you, as we

pry and prod for thoughts now past.

Can't you see the joke?

These thoughts, that perhaps mean nothing,

are past.

Why do you care how T.S. Elliot

metered his life?

Or that nobody was Emily D.

The tee-hee's invade every syllable, every word,

and resonate into a smile of my own.

I wrote that a long time ago.

My axis of evil

The U.S. has decided that there is this "Axis of Evil" out there. Countries that do stuff we don't like or agree with. I have decided that I have a list for my own personal "Axis of Evil." Here is the start:

George Bush
minivans
soccer moms
people who use the words "values" and "morals" as a basis for discrimination
sushi
hamsters
drivers who go lower than the speed limit in the left hand lane
liars
manipulators
U.S. foreign policy and the lack of
Donald Rumsfeld
clowns
free radicals
heartbreak
non-foodies, expand a little people
reality TV

Alright, that's a good start.