Scapegoats and Sacred Cows

I’m purging my house and finding lots of treasures. Maybe not lots, but a few. Okay one. I found one treasure.

Years ago (about 20) I was in a writing funk that wouldn’t lift. My bestie since I was 14 (what up, Ashlee??) put together a collection of my work to inspire me. A lot of the prose wouldn’t make sense to you guys because it centers around private jokes. But the writing that follows won’t make sense simply because it doesn’t make sense.  Please enjoy the following poems from my youth. xoxo

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SPACE PIGS

If I had a dollar,

I’d buy your mama,

And mail her to Egypt.

They make good

Wal-Marts there.

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REFLECTIONS OF GREATH DEPTH

I like to think of my legs as land and the hairs on them simply as trees. Trees should not be cut down. It really feels good to help out the environment.

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SPACE COWS

Three blind mice.

Where are their eyes?

Oh, here they are,

in my pocket.

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I think this answers the question of whether or not I’ve always been a lyrical genius. Thanks for being my muse, Ashlee.