Deep within the dankest, darkest depths
January 2, 2008
Deep within the dankest, darkest depths
of my mind,
there lies a creature,
locked up, chained to the stone walls
that suppress my very being.
Holy quaker oats!!
The town’s on fire!
Someone call grandma.
It’s the lobster headcrab thing,
gone wild amidst the planets of the ape!
As I wrote this poem,
I listened to Panic at the Disco.
It wasn’t until the first line of the chorus
that I remembered your name,
the name I so labored to memorize.
My hand!! I can’t take it off your thing!!
It’s the freakishly giant hornet!
Eating my house!
The end is near.
We are all gonna die.
Love. It’s the slowest form of suicide.
That’s what Johnny told me.
And it’s true.
Slowly,
I have been falling towards my demise.
House of composure.
I live next to my dog.
Parents eat fish.
I am giant potato head.
Feel the wrath of my bad carb. Grrr…!!
The creature has escaped now.
The longer you lock it up,
The more it becomes uncontrollable,
and crazy.
Help me!
I can’t spell hippopotamus!
Lots and lots of honey for my noodly baby!
Demon bunnies have come to my rescue.
Let go of the monkey.
I hate cheese.
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