Tuesday, August 09, 2005


Haze, the Partial Noun.

Early morning trudging to class
like a dwarf
plodding plodding
the only thing missing is an axe,
and a probably,

a fucking box of leprechaun treasure

Then an invisible, giant--
leprechaun is choking my neck
making me cough gag wheeze cough

Eyes are blurring
blurring, everything seems covered
in a layer of
inconsistent moving whitish

The wind is blowing
blowing and bringing the smell of
burning smoke
like the earth has sunken in the sky of hell
and smoking

And it's like waiting for the Rain God.
Except that there's haze and
no one to sacrifice.

*THOSE DAMNED FOOLS WHO BURN THE FOREST!* - Haji A.fnigegdg (who was smoking while cursing)

I'd post up a nice picture of the hazy surroundings , but too darn tooting lazy. *BEEP* *BEEP*

And maybe I'll write more beautiful poems in the future, eh. Something like those sickly, sugary sweet Chinese MTVs where the pretty girl in white is dancing among colourful leaves and sunflowers.

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