by Polly Conway
Author’s note: The poems in this series were created using found language from spam emails.
My brainchildren scrounge
for any little delegable task;
they sing:
La-di-da, the circumference of Cleveland.
No place is axisymmetric.
Who wants to cope with a non-dairy eater?
God, they’re bored.
It translates to this: me eating
casserole in the bedroom again—
Beside the bookend lies
a hardcopy of my stupefaction: Exam question: What made Bonaparte berserk?
We are in the same bind.
God gave us agriculture, Gideons gave Bibles, Mom gave me a cheese grater.
Bolometers measure radiant energy:
I swear, I’ll sparkle like actinium.
I’m a chorine at heart, my bilabial pout in an angel-o.
Radiant energy pours from my mouth—how do I measure it?
Do you really have to? The study tentatively recommends that the life-saving kits be issued to “some first responders, health care providers, and other workers that support critical infrastructure, as well as their families.” Apparently medical workers aren’t too stupid to live, according to the Institute of, uh, Medicine. And neither are government workers – those postal workers, the cops that will have to accompany them, and anybody else in government who’s smart enough to call himself a first responder (want to bet that includes the Governor?).
Posted by: Ugg Outlet | 10/06/2011 at 02:33 AM
The wild-rose briar is sweet in the spring,
Its summer blossoms scent the air;
Yet wait till winter comes again
And who will call the wild-briar fair?
Posted by: UGG Boots | 12/06/2011 at 11:18 PM