Poem #34 of 365

i am ohm-ing
in the ohm-ent
and the clock
waits on the
drying of the cement.

we wonder why the newsman
is so penile
and wraparound vanilla plain revile
and the clock
waits on the
drying of the cement.

you are shlepping in
the vain grey daytime
with a brain jackhammer on surge wine
and the clock
waits on the
drying of the cement.

she be chumming bonedaddys on
the cell phone
with a lollipop face on a brain drone
and the clock
waits on the
drying of the cement.

he like tricking razorblades on
his wet tongue
he has to swallow harmonies sullen unsung
and the clock
waits on the
drying of the cement.

and the clock
waits on the
drying of the cement.


copyright 2007 tammy melody gomez