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 little bird” I stare at the shed and notice a bluebird on that nearby tree, on that branch halfway up, chirping. Hey, my coworker says Hey, I say Are you distracted, she says Sorry, I say And she leaves And I go back to my bird. But it is no longer chirping on that […]Read more "A LITTLE BIRD -S.M. Moore"