Call me a kleptomaniac,
kinetic brainiac,
stealing your thoughts
like I'm kinematic.
Kickback while this kaiser kick-starts
this kaleidoscopic kingdom
of kingly words from the kingpin.
My know-how is known now
whether your Kenyan or Korean,
with a keystroke my keynote
is keen like a knight killing knifing machine.

Turn up your klaxon,
slacks off and wax on.
This ain't Krypton,
don't be knave son.
Let's get kungfu'd,
cuz this is my kitchen.
I'm serving kelp
is that kosher?
Course I'm just kidding.
You know kernels are turning
my kettle is boiling;
my stomach keeps churning
and my kneecaps are seizing
because I'm knee-deep in seasoning
that I kneads for no reason.

I'm a kinky koala
khaki wearing pre-Madonna
kidnapping kittens in kennels
for kicks and kisses,
Making kitsch fur jackets
from kamikaze kookaburras
to be sold in my kiosk of
keepsakes and Jackals.
I'm a jackass and know it,
knowingly knowledgeable of it
not kind, but loveable
since I know how to knit.

There's a kink in my plan
cause the key in my hand
doesn't fit in this keyhole
and there's no keypad,
keyword, or secret keystone.
I'm on my knees at knife-point
with knots in my stomach
and my kidney's. Since I knelt
my knuckles clenched and felt,
like knuckle-dusting karma
with a fist-pumping karate black belt.

I'm the king of the kin
from this karst to Islam,
Kazakhstan to Iran
I've never read the koran
but I've used more K's than the Ku Klux Klan.
I've moved buildings and broke bricks
now it's time to fetch a king-sized ketch
on the keening river of Stix.

01/16/2012

Author's Note: I can't begin to explain how bad this is. I think I should stick to vowels.

Posted on 01/16/2012
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