blitzkrieg serenadeA Poem by Mike P.
a circling pit of restless climate can never commit
to a cosmetic vice of generic print. the uninspired matching of socks, the repetitive mention of pink to compensate for the zipping sounds an umbrella makes when angel piss runs down its flared back. half inch attention spans peter out a quarter way down the trail of a platonic screen. replicated heroes reproduce duplicated copy. like a duplex sandwiched between twin mirrors. and vigilante planets get ripped from their axis. publicly lambasted for the use of inappropriate poetics. so says the didactic dianetics of militaristic critique. when a dry scalp is confronted with the challenge of a spacious grouping of charging alphabet, the typical result is a balding curse of superfluous syntax. while disobedient bombs of chambered hale bottle over in asthma inducing laughter, eager for that rush of the next assault. first, the sound is like a babies earliest footsteps, one at a time, in succession. then, the bats of frenetic taps of key. growing. echoing. then finally a full blown storm of fist sized ideas hammer down. leaving dents and welts. shooing academic toupees from the shiny domes of plasticized article. visual exposition is the next open target. commodity is no longer a safe sanctuary for poor hobby. and currency holds no merit down here. imagine that. © 2008 Mike P.Featured Review
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Added on February 28, 2008AuthorMike P.CAAboutIf anyone is interested in hearing me...take a peep at my profile on myspace. art/poetry/soundbymikep. I know, I know...many of you are anti myspace but I'm not to good with technology and that was th.. more..Writing
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