McPoems

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macdonalds. you were my

macdonalds. you were my childhood friend. I used to visit you during my lunch breaks in my ripped jeans and backwards cap. now that you are poem, you are sipping lattes in starbucks reading Truman Capote as you stroke your beard and dwell about your day to your 5" japanese beatnik wife.

bv more than 6 years ago

Early BIlleh, Vintage if you like....My stag, Feb. 1990

OLD PRUNES;
Open skies of memories
reflecting sunshine
animated laughter
golden arches.
Friendly eyes (I's) remember
white chocolate smiles
crayoned souvenirs
new beginnings in the never endings.
stayfree watches
curry in a hurry
and mysterious little green men
can sometimes tickle
even the oldest of Sharans men.
You just don't understand
but somehow I think you do.

Christina, aka sexual twist more than 6 years ago

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