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"
BRUCE GUNTHER – AFTER PAZ
After Paz Words sifted througha pail of pebbles.My mind overrunby thoughts unleashed.Day and night splitby a seam throughwhich dusk travels.I write letters tofaded memories,to resentmentsand their knives.Words as scatteredas the voices ofmany songbirds.One page isn’t enoughbut two are too many.Words. Voices.Memories hid in darkcorners, behind bookshelves.Wait for them untilthey pull you betweenpast and present.
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