Thesis 1: The Changing of Tires in a Well of Sadness
I feel bad for the Funk Ark.
I’ll nibble on this toast while I smoke this Coolidge.
Is your unfair-advantage heart nodding?
Don’t ask if you are a way, shape or form.
There are several things we could call this:
the red M in the men’s restroom
the infinite variety of eggs
the artificial sweetener that smells galore in your highness’s gut.
I did my part
and got up at the crack of dawn.
Now do yours, finger tips, and play the keys
until I have a thesis full a stars.
art by Julien Pacaud