Dear YOu,
I wAnt tO neSTLE inSIDE yOur MinD.
FaLL beTWeeN thOse pULsing ceLLs &
Open eACh One and LivE ThERE.
THEn I'll SinG LikE JANIS aFTER 70's seX;
unTiLL aLL yOur fears Are AbsoluteLY ANNihiLATeD.
Signed,
ME [cake lady in cubicle 8]
muse: another blogger's funny confession.
3
cyber-ific!
ReplyDeleteTY.
ReplyDeleteI had to read it twice (because I'm old and like that) and I found this to be very, very sweet.
ReplyDeleteAwww, no your sweet Chris, nothing sweet about me.
ReplyDeleteSweet love poem. Cheers
ReplyDeleteI'm getting a toothache from all this sweet. I must
ReplyDeletebe slipping.
very sensuous.
ReplyDeleteTq Shauna! I like your poem. we should work together next. :-)
ReplyDeleteDelicious poem, I like.
ReplyDeleteTy Sheliagh
ReplyDeleteYes, we should work together Julien, email me.
ReplyDeleteLeo, babe, Ty.
ReplyDeleteWouldn't that be a scrumptious note to receive..I like the image of screeching like Janis in a cubicle..how else does one survive cubicle living..do you like Regina Spektor..the consequence of sound mentions cubicle death..but of course this is about cubicle loving..jae x
ReplyDeleteHelltotheYeah - Can't resist Regina's quirky voice.
ReplyDeleteConsequence of Sound reminds me of your poetry in an architectural
way. I use to play her Time forever.
The only disappointment I feel about this entry is the fact that it wasn't written about me.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful, as always. :)
bard, my heart...that can be arranged.
ReplyDelete