Vodka Omelet Make it clear in my mind, Jesus, am I whacked-out on Double Cross Vodka or have I flipped out calling myself Limburger omelet chef? I hate question marks and angels with crazed wings. You know the type, John the Baptist toking weed, stoned out of his mind, storyteller, foul smells from poor hygiene, eating habits open mouth, swallowing grasshoppers, so silky, smooth as sweet honey. Add 3 eggs in a skillet, Parmesan/Romano blend, 2 cheeses add-on, shiitake mushrooms, turmeric, chopped kale, hint hot chili peppers, cheers. Scramble me, I’m cracked. I rock faith in jungle music, dance nude. Everything is a potential poem to me. My omelette, my life, my booze, master cook, vodka omelet 2:38 a.m.Read more "MICHAEL LEE JOHNSON – VODKA OMELET"
A Mint Left On The Pillow Not a cure, more of a ritual She’s got the curve of the moon from the ribcage to the thigh Serotonin levels off, Birds dropping down the tree branch by branch Leaves and blood, A final guffaw and twitch. Sitting patiently, waiting for the newness, The change, Thoughts not […]Read more "5 POEMS – Joe Sonnenblick"