Sonnet: Did You Hear the One About the Sore-Assed Loser?
by John Kendall Hawkins
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There's just one way it goes for smartarses
intent on dark humour in times of war
against terror, and fear of wars to come,
little jiggle joeys, thumbs up the bum,
who kill equanimity with a fart,
yell, "Teleological catharsis!"
We were picnicking, ogling over wine;
I was drinking in her liebfraumilch eyes
sparkling with buxomite (my lumen foil!),
when she said, I'm preggers, please don't recoil,
and the child's not yours. Our time as One, lies!
Instead of Beatrice, I'd loved Gertrude Stein.
Love: one bad tree brings deforestation --
funny old world of detà ¶restration*.
Detà ¶restration, n. from the German Tà ¶r -- door. Def.:To be thrown out the f*cking door; unwelcomed; bounced unceremoniously, like a rebound lover, who today was The One, and the next day was Number Two and flushed in the next revolution of her heart. Viva LeRoi! (Urban Dictionary)