half-blown dada

half-blown dada

A Poem by Tim Lion

fix nothing. normal is better broken.

 

I wanna go full-blown dada, but I’m too brainwashed

to ever get that muddy. so my poodle/Cerberus mutt

wears a 5-veiled Wang wedding gown and eats 9 bean

Martha Stewart soup from the barrel of a 12 gauge

S&W shot gun and likes it 50% of the downtime.

 

if I were like anyone;

if I liked anyone;

if anyone asks,

I’m just crazy.

 

that ought to bring on the dial tone.

the day is saved

like the stale corn-fritters in the aluminum

capes at the back of the mildew fridge forest .

 

I’m rebuilding my bridge to the ocean

with Twizzlers and conscientious backwash.

 

swashbucklers can live on throat spray for months.  

does my outcry sound numb?   

 

 

shut up! and peel my bananas

Mr. Foster!

© 2011 Tim Lion


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Featured Review

fix nothing. normal is better broken.

I want to wear that line on a t-shirt!

That second stanza certainly pays homage to the Dada school of art - love it! It all reads like the internal monologue of someone who needs a holiday from life.

Going to shut up now!

Posted 13 Years Ago


2 of 2 people found this review constructive.




Reviews

Downright mental. Really made me laugh.
'9 bean Martha Stewart soup' -- too funny.
Clever swashbuckling bit.
Dada da da...

Posted 13 Years Ago


Delightfully wicked, tongue-in-cheek - crazy is as crazy does, but it's all a matter of relativity. Loved it!

Posted 13 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

fix nothing. normal is better broken.

I want to wear that line on a t-shirt!

That second stanza certainly pays homage to the Dada school of art - love it! It all reads like the internal monologue of someone who needs a holiday from life.

Going to shut up now!

Posted 13 Years Ago


2 of 2 people found this review constructive.


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3 Reviews
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Shelved in 1 Library
Added on June 29, 2011
Last Updated on June 29, 2011

Author

Tim Lion
Tim Lion

Lake Worth, FL



About
Sometimes, when the moon presses her naked chest to my window, and my wife is carving the value from trash scraps, I feel like I may never be able to outshine my finite timeline. And the worst part is.. more..

Writing
oh sorry, oh sorry,

A Poem by Tim Lion