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“THE PROBABILITY THAT ROMANTIC ADDICTION WILL COMPEL YOU TO RETURN AGAIN AND AGAIN FOREVER TO ‘THE ONE YOU LOVE’ BECAUSE YOU ARE A BIG IDIOT AND DO NOT UNDERSTAND YOURSELF!” a poem, written on the morning of May 13th 2019, Monday!
“Yes, Virginia! Friday-the-13th-falls-on-a-Monday-AGAIN;
I know what you’re doing-and-I-know-where-you’ve been,
And I’m coming to get you; you’d better be ready!
You THINK that I’m Santa, but-my-name’s-really-FREDDY!”
Maybe I should, but maybe I won’t; Maybe, I could, but maybe I don’t!
Maybe I will; it might be a thrill! Maybe I AM – “Oh, God, what a pill!”
Maybe we all should-lay-down-and-die; Maybe-in-the-next-moment, we’re all gonna cry,
Because, JUST-MAYBE, as I’ve said so often,
“Maybe we’ve already – died in our coffin,
And can not remember the fact that we are, Lost-In-Space, and we-are so far,
From knowing what’s right – or wrong – or both; Quoth The Raven: “I swear this oath:
“TO-NEVER GET TOO-BIG-FOR-MY-BRITCHES!”
And, then, I’ve-got-you “laughing-in-stitches,”
And crying, for God’s sake, “Oh, Mr. Wizard –
Oh, Mystic Poet, with-the-root-brain-of-a-lizard,
Please-help-us – we-can’t-see The-Nose-on-our-Face,
For – we-belong to-the-lost-Human-Race,
And maybe we think we know where we’re going,
And maybe we’re flying, but maybe-it’s-a-‘Boeing,’
And Boeings go ‘boing,’ which means they might crash,
Or bounce quite a bit! Hey, who’s got my cash?”
“Well, just-relax,” says the Poet named Mystic;
“Your money’s not yours – and-it’ll-go-to-the-most-sadistic,
Bastard-who-can-manipulate – The Corrupt Probate Courts,
Or, maybe-not! Oh, Lord! I-gotta-burn-off-these-warts,
And get a ‘boob job,’ a-face-lift – and-fight cancer!
But, Christmas-will-be-here-soon, and my best friend is Dancer,
But Vixen’s a vixen, so-her-I-wanna-marry,
Such-a-beautiful-gal, but-she-won’t-eat-‘dairy,’
‘Cause-it gives her gas, but, maybe, I’ll like,
How her farts smell, when she rides on her bike,
And, maybe, we’ll all ride to Cairns in The Spring,
And, maybe, I’ll buy her – a nice, diamond ring,
And she’ll get all piss-y and say: ‘BUT I LIKE,
MY DOLLAR BILL RING!” and, I’ll-pick-up-‘the-mic,’
And-I’ll-sing-her-a-love-song, that will make her cry!”

MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, in “The Sweet By & By!”
fin <3

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Published by J Jay Samuel Davis

A West Texas Cowboy, seeking "fishers of (wo)men!"

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