My Story About Roger But HighCHAPTER IRoger Waters was sleeping in a sleeping bag. He looked like a baby Jesus is his little cot. Except older and hotter. The stars were dawning on the brave new landscape and Jesus I mean Roger went outside. The day was warm and he tied his shoe."I love the earth and all it's inhabitants," said in a singsong voice to the moon and the stars and the sun and we all shine on. I like that song. It's called instant karma.That's Roger's hero you know. John Lennon.AnywaysThe day was cold and he undid his nail polish from the scalp crusted nose hairs his enthralled neighbours bought for him but he didn't know what the Mexican was talking about so he had a yard sale. The letter Q is not pressed enough. Press Q. right now. It's satisfying. Almost as satisfying as Roger's face to look at.Roger continued on down he grotto and into the land of crying Elmo foetuses which he kept in jars to sell to the local McDonalds.There he met with the queen of gum and she told him he had a millisecond
Jimmy and Rick PoemThe wind softly tousling his hair around was almost all I needed to fall for him.The night was perfect, save for the police siren in the far distance.But then, even the imperfections had their place tonightAround the perfection.Around Rick. *****"Jimmy
" he whispered almost silently,Though he knew I could hear him,For had he said nothing,I still would have known."What is it," I asked,Knowing I'd give it my allFor if he asked me for the worldThe world he'd be shown."Make me feel real,"He asked with a wink.Take my beating ribs from my chestMy lovesick heart would've flown."I'll do my best,"I spoke very quiet,Though if I'd said nothingHe still would have known.S
A Short IntermissionA hole in the wall never catches the sunWhat happened to the days I'd singAnd you'd sing along with me?My hate for you delves deep as darkest chills,But dies in the lack of tractionI have on my own earth.