The land of Top Button Buttony

I was at work the other day stacking genius on a plattitude shelf
When I woke up from my daydreams and nearly wetted my self
Oh my God, is it possible I sleepwalked all the way to my job
armed with a rusty screwdriver and an old coolerknob?

Massacred my coworkers and boss and all their little kids?
Nah, that's probably just that horrorflick
I have running on repeat on the insides of my eyelids.
Well ain't that a kick!
In my head I'll have a thousand bullets fired for tomorrowdays attire
and once the scent of hope is dead I'll lick each dirty slug, I just love that taste of lead.

Once when I was a kid with sailor suit and tie the moon hit my eye like a big pizza pie. Something deep inside me sighed and rubbed a string lycantropyfied.
Every night I'd pray to God that the sky'd solidify and the gnomes crawl out their mines into the billowing sunshine just to ask me what happened.
I'd blush and tell them that the moon hit my eye just like a big pizza pie, and that each knochenblume is still a flower despite the rotten fumes.
They'd pat my head and sigh, and say this kid will never learn that today's a good a day as any to win a last dusty Grammy before you die.

But I grew out that silly stasis in consistency and these days I'm not really me you see, I'm just what I grew up to be.
I'm part of the professional nine to five beehive confessional now. We soak and boak the monotony of the land of Top Button Buttony, and how!
The land of wipped cream and Big Macs, broken dreams and wipped backs.
Where water corrodes the solid rocks locked and sips into the crevaces and cracks.
Ready to burst at any moment, reflecting every salty tear spent.
And now you know where all those gnomes went.



Poetry by lou bergs
Read 582 times
Written on 2005-06-21 at 16:40

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chasingtheday The PoetBay support member heart!
i think the majority of the nine to five beehive are insane, wandering the thin lines while they work.
2005-07-15