The paranoia sets in again
penning ten aging sins
against tin sign posts.
Parisian songs in not one note:
saps panning in the raging rains,
aging paintings, pale sangria,
goners past tense once gone.
Testing the pair on proper par,
no noise gains sages panting;
rappers taping tan pan rape songs,
singing eerie opera sets,
eating grapes on stage.
The paranoia spans eons,
the spinning ions start sane,
penning again, penning again,
against era on era, stepping to,
resisting stress set ages ago.
I am the best thing you've never heard of.
I hold a Bachelor's in English, History and Secondary Education, and a Master's in English: Creative Writing, though my appearance belies intelligence.
My goal in life is to write and to be read. It's a modest stretch by most imaginations.
To most I'm amazing.
It all depends on your definition of literary merit.
All poems contained on this blog are ©Thomas Boersma unless otherwise noted.
Friday, October 15, 2010
Poem-A-Day: Day 337
The Paranoia Set In Again
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Drop a line, a quip, a snippet, your pants, or an anecdote...just don't drop the soap.