you stopped by.
and read
these few words.

there is a poem,
[i cutely hid.]
between the lines.

you ought to read it!
with what you think,
and my perfect poem.

we can take it on the road.
i'm talking money, big money.

no, no, no! all accolades go to you,
you're the thought-machine in this;

you're the one to twist my words,
fit some grand scheme of 'goooooood'
in print

[i'm beginning to feel sorrow for the poor reader--i frown]

but i'm murmuring this to you, i'd as soon you not tell the others.

02/15/2010

Posted on 02/16/2010
Copyright © 2026 Charlie Morgan