silentbob sneeze 030909
crimson i dont mind the sun sometimes
the images it shows
i can taste you on my lips
and smell you in my clothes
cinnamon and sugary
and softly spoken lies
you never know just how to look
through other peoples eyes

my dad used to always buy salt and pepper potato chips
my cousin used to find it really bizarre that i put pepper on my french fries.
excuse me, freedom fries.
misstree i became a firm supporter of pepper on fries after one waitressing job where one lady would pepper the basket that the cooks would send out for us to keep the other waitresses from eating it. i got used to it, and determined that it is yummy, and now it keeps other people away from my fries. 030926
realistic optimist i miss you pepper
though i used to pul your tail.
it was my ay of playing predator
with an animal of preditory nature

i iss curling up with you
for saturday morning cartoons
and the friendly way you
made yourself be known.

you weren't like salt at all
hiding behind the water heater
eshewing human contact to the point
where we renamed her bashful

true to your name you were
full of vim and vigor and pep
and then once my sister was
born, and bashful was found

lying on her neck, that was
the beginning of the end
of our perfect friendship

i was told that bashful was
going to be given away
that i could handle, we werent
that close of friends anyway.

but the night we gave you up,
to some poor sot in an apartment
with his tv up on a crate,
i cried and cried all night.

"we will take you to visit him
whenever you want," you promised.
not ever again did i see my
playful childhood friend.

and i vowed to one day have
a cat of my own, one that mom
couldn't take away, one who
would be my friend to the end.

but the realization of that dream
is a blathe for a different day
cheers to you pepper, you will
always have a place in my heart.
nomatter And so I sprinkled it on, and he said more. Laughter, apparently more was too much. And I couldn't help but look up and of course smile. We talked of his new haircut and his poser layaway shirt. The Elvis patch fit in somehow. It seems like minutes ago. He followed me to the bank, except he got there first. And he was in line and had mustard on the back of his pants. I coughed and laughed and everyone looked, except for him. He was done but I asked him to wait. I took my time and turned around. Expected him to be gone. He was sitting down on the couch. In that oh so awkward casual way. And we went outside to escape the smirks and leaned against your peice of shit in the smouldering sun. Anything to be together. I wanted to have THE TALK right then, but couldn't bring myself to mention a topic that serious at such a time. I'll ask around, and pretend like I don't give a fuck. But yet I'll cry myself to sleep tonight just because I want it that bad. 030926
le_buda_nagot see baianidade 060322
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