Good morning america
Good morning America.
You already fucked this poem once
Don't do it again.
Good morning America
Your radio waves soothe me
but again I can't beat the bullshit out of bed
and last nights dreams face elimination.
The deejay's throat is silver lined phlegm
the moon is a lozenge stuck in the
sphincter
and he plays white zombie
for me
I phoned it in last night
and it was him
the same voice around the clock
around the dial.
The new 100.3 Xerox
Americas hits of the millennia
over and over again
add nausea.
I am addicted to coke
and chicken biscuits.
the streets of this fair city
are covered in lard with
respectable twigs holding them
Up and briefcases with cut outs
for vibrators that leak knowledge
into machines where love was
shattered to bits. Good morning
mother fucking america
The daisy chains are mud soaked swine.
poem by Walter Burns
Added by Poetry Lover
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