PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Shrink me down into a starved ant pile, paint me Jewish

and kick me into Nazi Street, or implant eighty eight fore-

skins on my arms, legs, and forehead, but do not, do not

make me read



        Sam & Pam's First Kiss



        The chronicle is on the floor now. Good, but Sam

        and Pam come out from the paper to begin swapping

        genital sweat until the entire house is flooded. The life-

        guard doesn't even bother, for she sees I am single

        and most certainly have something tucked behind my

        back, like an erection.



        Eventually, the mailman lets me out, who turns out to

        be Sam one second and Pam the next. Look, they're

        even in the clouds--two love birds flying by, shitting on

        my head, and causing Col. Brown Hat to grow furious

        and defect into another head--a head that happens to

        be that of Sam's one second and Pam's the next.



        Shortly after at the hat store, I see they only carry Sam

        and Pam, so I call time out and hide into a kangaroo's

        pouch, only to hear Sam and Pam demand I occupy

        my own room. Down the road at a motel not called Sam

        & Pam's Inn, the front lobby clerk throws me the key

        to her heart.



        Upon opening it, I realize she is but a newspaper vending

        machine of today's chronicle featuring



                Sam & Pam's First Kiss



                The chronicle is on the floor now...