Thursday, April 21, 2011

2 Hurried Poems

Where u freom?

That way you leave fouod on your plate
I’m thinking solme place from the
herd youw ain’t so starving
artist.

U Gotta Do Your Paret

The man withoet shades on
aske d me for my box
(our precious lobster was in)
and I gave him Vibrio vulnificus.



(a hurried poem is 20 words written in such a hurry that the fingers bumble and peculiar mispellings occur.)