we sit together in a now empty room.
fragments of balloons and streamers still litter the floor.
i am still in my tux, (though my bowtie is off) you are still in your fancy ballroom dress (though the makeup has started to fade).
we clink our champagne glasses together.
you put your head on my shoulder and smile.
limerick week is over.
now its time to head home.
but first some late-comers:
there once was a boy named ryan
who wrote poems without even tryin'
he said, "it's so easy"
but mine just sound cheesy
i can barely get them to rhy-em.
-the fabulous laura brown
I have never really liked myspace.
You should stay away from that place.
Without it you are called "uncool,"
both a loser and a fool.
Why do they all make the same face
-the wonderful daniel something or other
as i typed the last words on the screen
of the best limericks God or man has seen
the computer just stopped
all my words got dropped
how poetic the sounds of my scream
-the gloriously attractive me
"a good ending to poetry month", i say as, hand in hand, we walk out of the room.
10:38 a.m. - 2006-05-01
Recent entries:
Awake in My Tiny Cage - 2014-11-03
God. - 2014-10-27
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The Paper - 2014-10-13
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