K. Morris's Blog, page 562
September 3, 2017
Zero
In search of nothing
We bring
The world crashing down around our ears.
All our self-made fears
Come to fruition,
For those who seek for pedition
Come face-to-face with a zero
In their own fractured glass.
His bed learned to speak
His bed learned to speak.
Ere the week
Had passed,
That bed was only good
For firewood …
There was a young man named Nool
There was a young man named Nool
Who made friends with a ghastly ghoul.
The local vicar, named Fred,
Shook his grey head,
And called him a blithering fool!
There was a young lady named Coral
There was a young lady named Coral
Who was extremely stern and moral.
She dated a man named Bill
Who asked “I wonder will …?”
It led to quite a quarrel!
Wired
Wires going into your head.
Are you dead
Or on life support?
Perhaps I aught
Not to intrude,
For it is rude
To stare.
But there,
To my surprise,
In front of my eyes
Is an actual cyborg,
Who does on technology gorge.
Blotches
Pale ghosts.
Stale scent.
Notches in bedposts.
Copybook blotches.
Too many to remember.
May to December
Self Pity
It didn’t happen because
She was
A prude.
“I wasn’t rude”
he thinks
As he drinks
Bitter beer alone,
His hand itching for the telephone.
September 2, 2017
Double Header
The game we started off to play last spring
Seemed innocent enough to me at first.
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