2 inspired by a Dorothy M word challenge..

just warming up, working my way into something pretty

this pickle/bologna/mustard

sandwich

explodes

like

a
meteor


i am so blind i thought that m word was
'metaphor'
anyway

the pickles
now that i am on that kick - had the back of two toads
damn
this is not funny
ok on to

amaranth
which i am not gonna lie
i forgot what that is and had to
google (there is something in the dna of bologna that makes ya dumb)
or maybe it's just this
icehouse

beer

that
i

am


sucking


on

anyway amaranth.. dark passion play.. rope of petals..
ground thorns... fuck ..
give me anything to take the pain away
shove some purple rhinestones up my nose, yeah
i want to suffocate &
see a moon made of
carNations
a
road-kill-muskrat
jumped
back to life

i want to taste
a drink called
tears of
a
FireFly

find an
angel
named
poppy

feed it
snow
and
a few
sprigs
called
sorrow


...


Your Fingers Pry Open The Door To My Masquerade &

they smell like
road-killed muskrat!
You were with that whore,
Amaranth..

the one who wears

nothing

but

a

rope
of

rage

on

her

bursting

rage


possibly

to

cover

that

botched

tear

tattoo..