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Poetry #171
(published March 18, 2004)
Drunk Soccer Moms
by brucer1@earthlink.net

An expensive small white table
run however,
our white sofa fidgeting
however,
our children, small
expensive balloon arrives.
A given soft little bicycle
run however,
My white recycle bin stares
however,
his brother's shining round-shaped glove walks.

Our white house falls.

Our children's shining mouse falls.

Her smart eraser makes sound.

Her daughter's fancy expensive mobile phone shows its value.
Whose well-crafted t-shirt prepares for a fight?
Her daughters shining recycle bin smiles.
The beautiful soft umbrella smells.
A smart kitchen falls.

Whose odd shaped tall caw walks at the place that her white sport shoes make sound?

His stupid dog spit.
Our silver white mouse got an idea.
Her noisy dog fidgeting.
A given slopy noisy
white recycle bin arrives.
Her daughter's well-crafted baby sleeps.

Their shining         slopy clock stares.

A beautiful laptop falls and her golden cat walks and perhaps a white fancy boot lies.


This found poem was recieved as a portion of a spam e-mail advertising a pornographic website.— Eds

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The Next Poetry piece (from Issue #172):

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The Last few Poetry pieces (from Issues #170 thru #166):

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by William Butler Yeats

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"My body's long sorrow; the Lord, the monster, the lonely reaver."
by Fritz Swanson (trans.)

Rue Du Coq D'or, Paris
by Christopher Barnes

The Garden's Dirty
by Alex Chambers


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