tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18628978.post116075762442267442..comments2024-02-18T10:19:46.501-08:00Comments on Matt Mikalatos: WashingtonMatt Mikalatoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13279070118483678882noreply@blogger.comBlogger5125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18628978.post-1162914495795549152006-11-07T07:48:00.000-08:002006-11-07T07:48:00.000-08:00123Poets jump up for your annual spayingYou heard ...123<BR/>Poets jump up for your annual spaying<BR/>You heard me right<BR/>"Annual poet spaying"<BR/>It's that time of the life again, people.<BR/>Assume the preposition<BR/>and bite down.<BR/>The words are a fluid chain,<BR/>A cyanide capsule that bites you back,<BR/>and nobody, I mean nobody<BR/>will excuse themselves from this one.<BR/>If you people had a nickel<BR/>for every time I mentioned poets <BR/>in a disparaging way (called them subhuman<BR/> chased them with baseball bats)<BR/>you'd be rich neutered poets<BR/>I mean rich.<BR/>And if that doesn't make you mad,<BR/>and brand me a traitor…<BR/>then all I can do is write harder<BR/>and grind my poems in peace.<BR/><BR/><BR/>CinnamonGhoul<BR/>j_gulbranson@hotmail.comAnonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18628978.post-1161840651963744212006-10-25T22:30:00.000-07:002006-10-25T22:30:00.000-07:00WASHINGTON:Greyhound always costs what I have left...WASHINGTON:<BR/><BR/>Greyhound <BR/><BR/>always costs what I have left<BR/><BR/>after beers and little debbies<BR/><BR/>after I’m alone<BR/><BR/>and I don’t want anyone to see me<BR/><BR/>crying into a dunkin doughnuts napkin<BR/><BR/>checked baggage <BR/><BR/>non-identified gender<BR/><BR/>people with their faces caved in<BR/><BR/>from sorrow and failure<BR/><BR/>everything is broken<BR/><BR/>smoking is this kindness<BR/><BR/>a favor to myself <BR/><BR/>to save myself<BR/><BR/>from dying a less predictable way<BR/><BR/>writing poems on cocktail napkins<BR/><BR/>writing poems in travel toilets<BR/><BR/>writing poems is this plea<BR/><BR/>sent out to some other hobo<BR/><BR/>also running away from home retroactively<BR/><BR/>who also happened to do the<BR/><BR/>international baccalaureate in high school<BR/><BR/>but ended up bumming rides to VancouverAnonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18628978.post-1161451499916253952006-10-21T10:24:00.000-07:002006-10-21T10:24:00.000-07:00Title: I Used To Love My State Of Origin, But Now ...Title: I Used To Love My State Of Origin, But Now I Have My Doubts<BR/><BR/>Washington, named after George<BR/>Beautiful mountains and concerts at the Gorge<BR/>Apples, coffee, rain, and sun<BR/>Evergreen, ever-gray, laid back and oh, so fun<BR/><BR/>Until they outlawed playing TAG!!!<BR/><BR/>The End.<BR/><BR/>http://www.thenewstribune.com/news/nationworld/story/6172700p-5399088c.html<BR/><BR/>Did you read about that? Seriously. No good.Alexishttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14219453836974801747noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18628978.post-1161045076655591932006-10-16T17:31:00.000-07:002006-10-16T17:31:00.000-07:00Kinda lame, but, oh well. Who wants any accolades...Kinda lame, but, oh well. Who wants any accolades from Gov. Gregoire anyway? Oops . . .Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18628978.post-1161044914705686372006-10-16T17:28:00.000-07:002006-10-16T17:28:00.000-07:00Washington . . . The West SideYou’ve only to visit...Washington . . . The West Side<BR/><BR/>You’ve only to visit in autumn,<BR/> And you’ll stay.<BR/>The reds, golds, yellows, and orange<BR/> Of maple leaves drifting from the heights<BR/>Of limbs stroking the grey light of sky, <BR/>Piled high will beckon you to play.<BR/><BR/>But yet winter has its own design,<BR/> Often wet, not frigid for long.<BR/>The skies more slate and charcoal<BR/> The wind might whoosh and howl<BR/>And chase you in to fire’s warmth. <BR/>But will not overstay the goal.<BR/><BR/>Spring comes awkward with might and meek,<BR/> Undecided but in bloom.<BR/>Early tulips and daffodil <BR/> Hearty but hungry for the sun,<BR/>Which often hides in winter’s wake,<BR/>Waiting to deliver the anticipated thrill.<BR/><BR/>Summer proclaims its hindered arrival, <BR/> The welcomed guest spreading the heat<BR/>Making green the color of choice. <BR/> While flowers herald the show-off sun,<BR/>Soaking in the rapture, exploding in unequalled palette,<BR/>The season unfurled, success announced . . . and then it’s done. <BR/><BR/><BR/> by Nicole Petrino-Salter<BR/><BR/>nicolepetrinosalter@hotmail.comAnonymousnoreply@blogger.com