Homage to Red Roscoe
Bankable Poetry weeps.
Yes, it's true.
Even a hardened poetman has a heart.
Red Roscoe doesn't live in Kansas anymore.
Red Roscoe ain't on THAT map.
Woe to Red Roscoe. Whoa.
The mask's been pulled off the Red Ranger.
He ain't in Kansas anymore.
He ain't a rookie either.
Can he be summoned from the clichés of pig alleys past?
Can he skip to the lou-loot again?
Bankable Poetry weeps.
The days are long.
Sentences end in periods.
posted by Bankable Poetry @ 3:54 PM
4 comments
4 Comments:
Sentences have periods
like women
and women give birth
like good sentences.
So keep that in mind, Bankable!
Forget about Ferragamo.
Forget about Ferragamo what?
Are your blue blisters at least digging the double language puns?
Welcome back, Bankable. We've missed you! And thanks, I've just won a bet with some friends. I KNEW you'd come back.
And in other insider trading news, Bankable Poetry takes a cut from an anonymous donor's bet that he'd be back. Thanks, boys...
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