Everybody’s talking about the sunshine,
I prefer the moon,
especially when it’s out the window
of a 65 Plymouth Satellite,
making a statement
to the world and
the Buick we just passed.

Everybody’s talking about love,
(sent from heaven above, eech)
I prefer the apathy,
‘specially in the afterglow
that doesn’t glow,
just lays there sated,
wrinkling & shrinking
back to absence of lust.
Skip love,
too much work.

Everybody’s talking about someone,
I prefer no one,
or no two or no three.
It’s quieter.

Get your mind right,
get your skin tight,
blaze a logo studded lifestyle,
I’ll go to hell instead.
happy as the proverbial oyster,
or some such other mollusk.

True love and happiness,
symbolized by underwater
hard-shelled squiggly bits of flesh
mussel [sic] and slime.
Reminds me of pussy.

03/29/2007

Posted on 03/30/2007
Copyright © 2025 Timothy Somers