Yawn. Back to work.
Here's my poem:
BOOK
It's darkness on that videotape,
we are the coolest empolyees, hidden
behind that counter, gray formica, check
out my mixtape, I held you and also
your scarf, I kept it from flapping,
there's pretty much nothing I'd like
more than to buy you something.
This is computer language for something
hideous, coupons emblazoned with regrettable
logos, graphic design sissies will be the first
thrown at armageddon's fangs, pretty fancy
stuff if you ask me, ketchup being one
of my favorites.
You're on candid camera. Wave like you mean
it, slime yourself if you don't know.
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