write a really WEIRD poem

[said in a computer-voice]

Hello, you have reached the household of Lady Potbelly.
If this is Lord Potbelly or his new blond wife, please press "End."
If this is a teenager calling to make fun of the Lady's surname, please press "End."
If this is the Lady's nephew in need of some cash, please press "End."
If this is a solicitor for plastic surgery or a nursing home, please press "End."
If you're still here, please leave a message after the tone.



...I hope this would still be considered a poem...

I hear there are orange squidders
in Patterson
they pitters

They pitters
then they patters
some are sons and some are datters

Milk and butter the baking seem of your eyes.
They platter each font of skill you caress and steal the margarine.
Magpies douse your blackbird flames but leave the food famished.
Moods flood this conflagration and nag at windless skies.

Can't Get Back

This magic meat that I must eat
Shines bright as if in play.
The sky is blue. The grass is, too.
May God drip consciousness on you.
I think I've lost my way.

Magic Boundaries


looking throuhg the lense of Tike
do you see just what I can see
rubbles, gubbles upside and trees
wondering the ins and outs of Rheeves
noisy and brash in single bash
trebbling, brumbles cut up the grass
tussels freckles flying just pass
counting one each in sums of threes
spotless and free ready to flee
wondering the ins and outs of Please
sires, ladies, cartoons and cars
lifting the parcels out of place
smiling cute faces handling hats
rafting but slowly out of chase
dangling their fashions out of air
wondering the ins and outs of Mer

sausages
my fingers
are sausages
bite the bastards off
fax me my fish fingers

Doyle went to Mommy's bed
upward she did sit
busted sleeping with the dog
and they were doing it!

Doyle yelled...called 'em names
turned as if to run
Momma said, ''We need to talk''
and Rover called him, ''Son''