I Might See Your Pint Poem by mutt barker

breath fresh air with lungs

Moist cake and trowsers

money to house hers

didactic universalism is the great new trend

amongst intelectuals,

Of which I am one

and only loved child of heavenly suppression

If you are

Then the transmission has been successfully

meaningless, if you see my point

I might see your pint

go down my throat's

nomad home

nobody's home

Home home home Run

along home little child, and take with you

your child's painting

and enter the kingdom of heaven

from vast experience to draw from I can make

several suggestions:

One: Be on Time and Under the Weather

Two: Obesity is catching

Catch some obesity today.

Three: Three, You, 'n Mee, and our self sprouted Glee

You See, I am blind, Faith

Affectionately spent, not a dollar too soon,

Out of Gas, and Grass

on my tripped to the Moon on a spoon

Flown by a loon

I am just another key out of tune

on Neptune I croon

folk songs with no more melodies than maladies,

pencil sized scripts tightening the knot too hot rot

from a google bot,

Dripping in Magnolias,

Overseas Temptations

Calling all Nations

Stretch your muscle and join the tussle.

It only takes one man in a maniacal land

To deal a sorry hand to humankind

left kicked in the behind,

whilst greeting and eating and sweating

Pork rind culture.

Mounting nativity scenes

compensating virgin birthrights

setting sights gaining inches in leotard tights

wild nights wild nights for thee I did not save my crescendo,

for thee I loved in no unstrange way


for thee I lay in ruins, content in discontent

in emptiness I bliss

if it weren't for that blasted hiss in my deflating balloon

bringing me back to earth too soon

too soon

Burn the last bit of gas

postpone the crash

climb out,

and jump into the sea
to swim with the fishless

seeing sea otters
shelling shellfish
selflessly

Oh Please, Oh Please,

Won't you be


free

of me?