02-25-2022, 04:09 AM
I've reposted ten years ago and older poems to this site recently, that are already on this site. Elaborating on references. I had a poem of fever dreams, where I couldn't stop making jokes every moment of all eternity: and shouted out I am Groucho Marx in Hell.
And I had a trope of Groucho Marx's demise, and figure it with Semicircle's essay of Altheimer's.
Carrying my notebooks through the rain to the nearest well-functioning wifi is an assorted sense of adventure in the meantime of others. Like something out of the Lord of the Rings.
This, TB, is Groucho speaking out of that Limbo
Lethe
Brother, silent one always dancing,
Sending the blonde girls into hysteria,
You chase that color right out of the rainbow.
And, boy, were the noons ever warm.
What is your harp doing now? Is it
Rusting, shoveling the dust hoveled in the big-spenders
Electronic bay, wisped away by this Mechanized America.
Your funny dreams, that old country.
Is Leonard still playing cards with Satan?
I never died, I never died,―my madness.
I've seen many shores.
All I know is, I know nothing.
You know that's my creed, brother?
Or, maybe, the time has come the Walrus said.
I cannot imagine that you were ever unhappy.
But we are clowns, brother.
And I still am.
I've never died.
And I had a trope of Groucho Marx's demise, and figure it with Semicircle's essay of Altheimer's.
Carrying my notebooks through the rain to the nearest well-functioning wifi is an assorted sense of adventure in the meantime of others. Like something out of the Lord of the Rings.
This, TB, is Groucho speaking out of that Limbo
Lethe
Brother, silent one always dancing,
Sending the blonde girls into hysteria,
You chase that color right out of the rainbow.
And, boy, were the noons ever warm.
What is your harp doing now? Is it
Rusting, shoveling the dust hoveled in the big-spenders
Electronic bay, wisped away by this Mechanized America.
Your funny dreams, that old country.
Is Leonard still playing cards with Satan?
I never died, I never died,―my madness.
I've seen many shores.
All I know is, I know nothing.
You know that's my creed, brother?
Or, maybe, the time has come the Walrus said.
I cannot imagine that you were ever unhappy.
But we are clowns, brother.
And I still am.
I've never died.