"Moving Jello"
I had writer's block and smashed a keg of beer.
The thoughts started flowing like beer.
Like the water.
A dying Moses tried to create for his people by smashing his staff against a rock.
God thought that was his sin and wouldn't let him into the holy land.
I drank some of this holy water and got drunk.
The caterpillar crawls into the spring night to have its butterfly summer's flight. A broken heart is like a flat tire without any spare. Like the butterfly's air. A cool pool of marmalade filled with the mellow jello's school of bebop.
A San Franciscan poet who is always reciting the "Love Song Of Alfred J. Proofrock," that he learned to recite by heart in the eleventh grade, is really a charlatan dead beat poet, who don't really know it.
By Jonathan Billet Sunday Afternoon on a September 29, 2013
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