this poem really sucks

the crusade of pain limps on

Published on February 19, 2007 By Gilford Tuttle In Writing

I was so drunk when I wrote it
that it was supposed to be a grocery list...
i took it to the store and tried to buy shit on the poem
and i got demanding with the clerks
when I couldn't find an eagle
oh, it was a mess with batons and screaming
I barely made bail in time for
a court appearance over something else
I am totally innocent of ...
some vegetable molestation th ing...
hell,
any radish in roger's park chicago
gets shoved up a but in a grocery store and put back
and they are knocking on my door
like I am the only one
who can't afford to actually buy radishes
in this neighborhood

Comments

Shovelheat

on Feb 19, 2007

ya had me 'till the produce went up your ass

Gilford Tuttle

on Feb 19, 2007

That's what mom always says.

Gilford Tuttle

on Feb 21, 2007

Now, while this poem seems to imply putting radishes in the ass, when one remembers the great literary symbolism associated with the radish since it was made famous as the food of kings in Baywolf (phoenic spell), the first story in the english language, and later lauded in the King James Version of the bible as 'the true vegetible of knowledge, and healthy passages of bowl." Verse something or other... One would realize that I am using the radish as a symbolic representation of the brussel sprouts. Now, Ralph Nader is probably the most famous advocate of the radish, which is sad in a way because conservatives now berate the little plucky purple ones;l as George Bush said in his latest speach, to a pizza delivery guy who was suprised to find out the president still drinks, and is indeed drunk all the time... though then it makes perfect sense when he thinks about the guys record... anyways, he told me W was ranting about various vegetibles and fruits and chicken, but he came down particularly hard on the radish, calling it, a 'liberal,commie vegetibles that would raise taxes and abort our women.'

Now, if liberals like radishes in their buts, let us be... just because you consevatives prefer watermelons and turnips does not mean we can't get along one day.... or so I dream in my dream of peace.

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