Move him into the sun,
into the daily fire
of reality.

They told him that he could
change the world,
make people read more,
help others embrace
this dying natural resource:
our beautiful English tongue.

They gave him Dickens,
Dickinson, Gogol, Tolstoy, and
so many other ink-filled pages
from the past, and said
"Read and never thirst again."

As the final act
of smearing on his educational sunblock,
they let him teach college freshmen.
Let him artificially indoctrinate them
with his ideas too potent
to be contained in
a standard classroom setting.

Ideas, words that burst from his mouth
like rays of light in a dark forest.

He's had it too easy,
let's move him into the sun,
where its so hot
his books will melt into sorrow,
and his ideas,
his words,
will burn through his sunblock
and eat away at his unconventional soul.

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Paisley Price Pincock  

Posted by Olsen Potter in

Purple is her favorite color,
purple with pink spots that
pronounce to the public
the she has pride
in her posterity.

People always perturb her
with their pointless peppering
of penetrating ponderings.

Of course she has the pluck,
poise, permanence, power,
and pertinacity to perplex
them with this plea,

"Please, plug your pit
with Peanuts, and pop off."

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