Something about your pie hole.
Continuously flapping.
Cupping strange feet way in said hole.
Can’t stop it from happening.
Braggart for others.
Makin’ their mothers
So damn proud.
Your mother’s head bowed.
Hurting for her son.
Whose come undone.
Can’t even close his pie hole…
This entry was posted on Thursday, October 17th, 2019 at 11:38 am and is filed under Don't Copy This Self. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
Get your tickets ready please!
Oh uh, hello there. How you doing?
Listen, my name is Barry and I'm the Conductor on this train so if you need anything, you just ask me, okay?
The bathrooms are right over there and please, pick up after yourself on account of I clean the place, too.
And uh, seeing as you're not from around here I'll just tell you straight out - although every story you might hear on this train is true, some stories are "truer" than others, if you can read between the rails...
Anyway, thanks for stopping by and, y'all come back now, y'hear?
Have a grand day, friend.
Barry Williams
Regina, Saskatchewan, Canada
barryhappywilliams@gmail.com