Disposable Poetry

poems written on the fly

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Stuck (or why we are poets)

Posted by sdoubinsky on 24 January 2008

Reality is not what
you make of it
Reality is what
you don’t want it to be

EL SEBBO

This entry was posted on 24 January 2008 at 6:51 am and is filed under art, bad haiku, bad poetry, bad sex and bad breath, birthday poems, literature, overweight champions, poem, poetry, seb, snuff poems, tarot poems, the queen of england, writing. . You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

One Response to “Stuck (or why we are poets)”

  1. DJ NIC Says:
    28 January 2008 at 3:15 pm

    Tell you man why I’m stuck on this lovely girl / f’course to me she mean all the world / but then she like another guy
    How long can the days go on — Oh wo wo
    When my love is so strong — Oh wo wo
    And I know I cannot tell a lie, Oh wo wo

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