Pointers Point: Jokes On Me
I laughed with balls yesterday
I’m not sure why, or what it
was
That was, to cause convulsive
chuckles, I think my eyes
tear-ed
was queer, about toe nails I’m
Sure, but she said something
sharp
from dark she throws, the subtle
wit, moves swift from forest for
kill
I will, write it down next time
on a matchbook, or dial it in
Text
on insect's back, or my hand
It’s prime material, rivals
TV
But see, she has no control
when her jest will spring on
jest
I’ll test her memory tomorrow
See if she knows, this mystery
slam
I am - sure it was a pointy tongue
she’s at her best turning point to
pointer
wanting her, to do it again, from
scripted jousting with cuts and
rubs
in of, it’s self, her bearish fun
would not exists, not alone, she
depends
again, on pointers point, aimed
at her, she has a motive, stealing
your inertia
Cinderella’s shoes fit nice, her feet
when she’s pointing the point;
jokes on me
|