Friday, October 28, 2005

The Interview

Stop staring at me,
Open-mouthedly gaping at me,
Wind swishing sentimentally
Through your orifices,
Tears sputtering
Along the wedges of your eyes,
Your left foot stomping
The invisible bass drum -

Stop watching me,
Shrewdly calculating me,
Throbbing pulses transversing
Your temple veins,
Adam's apple bobbing
In a stilted G minor,
Beads of fatigue ready to plunge
Off your stuffy chin -

Stop ogling at me,
Tongue-lickingly lusting for me,
Mind stricken aimless
By a freakish wanderlust,
Eyes feverishly groping
For hidden cobwebbed vistas,
Fingers playing a sweaty jig
On knees beaten to pulp -

Stop whatever you're doing to me,
Inside-outedly eating off me,
Your bunch of nerves
Wrangling in my face,
Twisting my laugh lines
Into a pitiful grimace,
Did I already tell you? Young man,
You’re fired.


Blogger Clifford Duffy said...

Hello I am just reading this poem of yours and thinking yes, yes, yes, and I like it and just wanted to say I look forward to you sending more of your pomes, or other texts to Taking the Brim. As you know there are no comments enabled on the Brim, so I am writin here instead, and I really like this pome.

11:04 PM, November 20, 2005  
Blogger Ozymandias said...

Just ambled onto your blog. I've read and liked this before somewhere. SO what is news with thou?

10:36 AM, February 11, 2006  

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