Thread: November 14th! "It's Not October!?"

kool!

Tiff

The weather outside is cold, you know,
not a place out there I want to go,
I'll hide in the basement chasing dirt,
14 years since the last chase, so it sure couldn't hurt!

Decisions, what to keep, what to throw away,
Such mental processes require all day,
My back won't be bending
My consternation never ending
Decisions, decisions, like a sugeon making incisions
Careful, so cautious, once something's gone, it's GONE
If I need it later, I just hope my spirit will be strong!
Should I pitch this artifact created by me?
It's broken now, with no thought of repair, what could it be?
Ah! if this swept pile of dirt could talk, the stories it could tell,
But it would be all "Dirty Talk", with a musty smell!
Stories from a point-of-veiw lower than most
Crunched underfoot, the grinding of burnt toast,
Looking at the world from down so low,
Makes everyone gigantic, kiss the "jam" of their toe!
A report from this quarter won't happen now
The dustbin is full and very repetitive anyhow.
I'll be down here if they want me, just first knock,
Counting the big spiders in the old sauerkraut crock
That is their Superdome where they fight to the death
Blaming one another for that sauerkraut breath
Occasionally I rescue one and give it a talk
If he seems agreeable, on goes the leash, out for a walk
I must warn all of you who might do this for fun
Keep them off of hot blacktop or they explode like a gun
Three steps and "BANG!" the yellow sauce is on the run
No more walk for spider, his time is done.
No spider-repair kit, no medi-vac chopper
Spray paint him silver for a Christmas tree topper
"And the angel with eight legs came down that certian night,
and cleaned the flies from the stable for the newborn in white,
And before such nonsense goes any further down that crusty road,
The eight-legged spider stole supper from the pinetree-colored Christmas Toad."
So go to sleep now children and have rechid dreams,
And hope that the silver spider won't be sucking out all of your vital bodilly creams!
This could happen, if you haven't been obedient and good,
You will not wake up in the morning, your brain will have withered and turned to WOOD!
Sleep now, you must
in the gracious silver angel spider we trust
"But you said that the spider had a blow-out and it's dead!"
"You would question ME!? That's what you think I said ?"

"My Insanity is well-respected, until they wiggle free and become a stringer for a tabloid"