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"Oh Poe is me." Parental Advisory | genre: Poetry | |
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I wrote this one about you, yes, you and no one else, but you. |
Credits: Faceitously has all the vowels in order! |
Story Behind the Song
Take the O.E.D.
Blend with
Long Pork, at least 200#
Cilantro, one bunch
Root Beer, 1 liter
Stout, 1 quart
Glen Morangie, 4 oz.
until creamy.
Serve chilled with a Mondavi Cabernet 1978.
Serves 33 million.
Lyrics
Oh, Poe is me.
I consume you, ice blood braincakes ala mode in a small cafe in Soho as Yoko poses on by in a roaming field of wallflowers and professional flies on the wall. In this cavalcade of fame, you remain. This hot and cold shower of fame can not defame the image you, a sacred view no matter how they pose and blow. Thirteen thousand years of Marilyn Chambers and a Lou Reed Serenade can’t pale the faded photograph of you I keep hidden in the Johnny dark Depp recesses of my mind.
Nevermore to be free.
I savor the taste of you — public tea of thee, leg of toad, eye of newt — as a suit stares questions at my ecstasy, still such interrogation from a wannabe Milken Toast criminal may thrill the girl behind the grill. It floats no boat in me. I have a better view. I have you immersed in hot water cooling to my tongues touch. As I Beiderbecke you in the theater of sound and taste, my eyes cloistered in this memory of you, I am untouched by the patrons of this celebrity cafe. And so it goes. And deep in my Vonnegut, I know I am only dreaming. You are gone, and my mind split in Twain is trying to Humpty Dumpty itself.
Oh, Poe is me.
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