Lost and Found
yumado | November 30, 2009
As I walked through the park, I heard someone crying.
I stopped by the cave and saw the bear with his head in his hands.
“What is the matter?” I asked with caution.
He looked up at me, drunk as a skunk.
yumado | November 30, 2009
As I walked through the park, I heard someone crying.
I stopped by the cave and saw the bear with his head in his hands.
“What is the matter?” I asked with caution.
He looked up at me, drunk as a skunk.
conetiquette | November 30, 2009
Indians grab their rifles, their bows and arrows. Tomahawks in hand, they are off to war.
Painting their faces with the blood of their enemies, chanting and summoning spirits
of protection.
The children hug their brothers and fathers, clinging to them for dear life.
yumado | November 30, 2009
Thinking only of her,
I wake up early, every morning,
Head to the field, grab my stick,
I hit my balls until my arms are soar.
Taking a break, I stand there, thinking,
If I make it big, she will truly love me.
yumado | November 30, 2009
A band of four writers,
Their outfits, so exquisite, so lavish,
They ride into town.
At the saloon, trouble arrives.
yumado | November 30, 2009
Sometimes, while getting intimate with another,
I begin to worry about my size,
But then I stop and think, It’s a recession.
…So I don’t.
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