11-06-2014, 06:05 AM
Miss Mills (For Mel)
Miss Mills loves pills,
it matters not what kind they are.
They always give her a thrill,
she giggles, and jiggles like cherry Jell-O,
as they make her trip, fall, and see stars.
One day she sayz to Cecil baby,
“’D’ could you do a flavor for me
and roll me up a nice spot of tea,
or maybe some pane?”
Cecil ‘D’ sayz,
“baby, that’ll make you go sane.
Here’s a PSA, do you know
what that stuff does to your brain?
‘sides I never knew you liked
L. S. Me but, whatever will be will be.
Did you know that D. Day was gay
(or at least she was often happy)?
Rock baby was anyway:
both liked to suck on Johnny Blue,
it made their pills go down smooth,
yeah baby, the “Breakfast of Champ-peons”,
or is that pee-ons, oh well, piss on it!
Here’s your window glass,
a rising Phoenix on someone’s ass.
Make sure you don’t cut yourself,
it’ll cause a lot of pane pain,
with or without Johnny in your veins.
Drink, snort, shoot up, it’s all the same,
it’s all good, baby.
––Erthona
Disc-claim-her: The link between Mel and this is obscure and known to very few people, so do not be drawing assumptions where they doughnut exists (besides as they have no corporeal existence it is a most difficult thing to do well, unless of course you are a trained assumption drawer, not to be confused with consumption, i.e., TB) . As the words for this "poem" came from my pea sized brain being smashed, and a small amount of pea essence dribbled out my nose, which I put on the shelf and which promptly began speaking the above words verbatim. I had to listen a number of times before I got the words correct. Shortly after I did, the green pea goop vanished in a small cloud of green smoke, and was never heard from again. Sad, but true. This of course was not my muse, it was Leanne's, but as she hates it, kicks it, and pepper sprays it, if often comes to visit me. I unfortunately feel sorry for it and let it ramble. Due to it's addled pate, from the beatings it say very little that is coherent. Just consider this the end game of muse abuse. dale
©2014
Miss Mills loves pills,
it matters not what kind they are.
They always give her a thrill,
she giggles, and jiggles like cherry Jell-O,
as they make her trip, fall, and see stars.
One day she sayz to Cecil baby,
“’D’ could you do a flavor for me
and roll me up a nice spot of tea,
or maybe some pane?”
Cecil ‘D’ sayz,
“baby, that’ll make you go sane.
Here’s a PSA, do you know
what that stuff does to your brain?
‘sides I never knew you liked
L. S. Me but, whatever will be will be.
Did you know that D. Day was gay
(or at least she was often happy)?
Rock baby was anyway:
both liked to suck on Johnny Blue,
it made their pills go down smooth,
yeah baby, the “Breakfast of Champ-peons”,
or is that pee-ons, oh well, piss on it!
Here’s your window glass,
a rising Phoenix on someone’s ass.
Make sure you don’t cut yourself,
it’ll cause a lot of pane pain,
with or without Johnny in your veins.
Drink, snort, shoot up, it’s all the same,
it’s all good, baby.
––Erthona
Disc-claim-her: The link between Mel and this is obscure and known to very few people, so do not be drawing assumptions where they doughnut exists (besides as they have no corporeal existence it is a most difficult thing to do well, unless of course you are a trained assumption drawer, not to be confused with consumption, i.e., TB) . As the words for this "poem" came from my pea sized brain being smashed, and a small amount of pea essence dribbled out my nose, which I put on the shelf and which promptly began speaking the above words verbatim. I had to listen a number of times before I got the words correct. Shortly after I did, the green pea goop vanished in a small cloud of green smoke, and was never heard from again. Sad, but true. This of course was not my muse, it was Leanne's, but as she hates it, kicks it, and pepper sprays it, if often comes to visit me. I unfortunately feel sorry for it and let it ramble. Due to it's addled pate, from the beatings it say very little that is coherent. Just consider this the end game of muse abuse. dale
©2014
How long after picking up the brush, the first masterpiece?
The goal is not to obfuscate that which is clear, but make clear that which isn't.
The goal is not to obfuscate that which is clear, but make clear that which isn't.