Leftovers
poetic scribble by Bob Axell 2008

 

Don't mind my blender
I blend your mind
With my rear fender
Leave you behind

Don't mind my mixer
I mix you're mind
Against the concrete
I rake you fine

Fine like grains
Like grains of sand
That fill the plains
In my full lands

That sleep at night
And roam all day
In a shivering river
That runs away

A stream of dust
A flow so fierce
It plans the ground
And shreds the air

Don't mind my milshake
You're minds up to
No good these days!
When I'm with you