the forrest beyond the trees
Posted by
Mike Baker
a midget we'll call Rosey,
pulls the pink wig from her head.
screams "here's your Mona Lisa,"
and stumbles to the bed.A man best know Hitlers son,
plays records for the press
and angles thoughts of mirrors
into Roseys dress. A pumpkin doctor's only hope,
is dying in the chair.
"here's to you, my naked dogs
there's no more music, anywhere. a truckload full of "not this time",
has skidded towards the hot dog carts,
as bun-less, mustard victims,
beat the back side of thier hearts A headless horse, with crystal eyes,
is pounding on the door,
you stole my eyes, and your demise,
was stealing little more. The chineese food got taken from us
that's how pregnant lions die,
and Rosey's eyes are full of tears,
but you'll never see a midget cry.
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