J.W. Frogg Poems
|1.||The Dreams Of The Broken||5/13/2012|
|2.||Play In The Road With Matches (A Baby's Lullaby)||4/18/2013|
|4.||The Full Report||5/29/2013|
|6.||The Peeking Hole||8/24/2013|
|7.||Untitled (With Walls And Stuff)||5/29/2013|
|9.||Girl Be Knockin'||3/10/2012|
|12.||Beauty (And One Sentence By The Pot-Head Who Woke Her)||3/11/2012|
|17.||Mold On My Think Stick||5/13/2012|
|18.||Zombie Sex Slave||3/15/2012|
Zombie Sex Slave
This is my zombie sex slave...
She never again needs to shave...
Someone sees me after the veil has closed...
But, she is not quite the same and her body feels froze...
No Holy Water please...
It only weakens her knees...
We are living with this night time adventure...
Hoping God will turn this undead friend of mine into my...
(So, fly away little dreamer & dream this into dreams)
Playing search and grab with his eyes, he leered over the balcony, tired of fighting for a lost cause. Who did he think he was, trying to stop time like Superman or John Lennon did? He should've known that that nothing like this would fancy them like that, never in a million dreams.
He was dead at seventeen and restless at twenty-something, now his Mom showed no existance beyond her own exit strategy. Her daydream voice was overshadowed