Get Your Head Out of the Game—Your Ass is on the Line [Twitter Found Poem, June 4, 2010]

Get Your Head Out of the Game—Your Ass is on the Line [Twitter Found Poem, June 4, 2010]
Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem

I saw you last night at the game with your goon squad.
the game: where lying, cheating degenerates prosper.
the game: where Sick bastards start calling all the shots.

I cant believe that we have such sick, twisted degenerates
calling all the shots. calling themselves the boss.
In order to win Game 2 of The #Finals, the twisted degenerates
take a shot at Your head. they shoot... they score!

PUT THE GAME IN their hands.
raise their hands IN THE Air
like they Just dont care.
PUT THE GAME IN their hands
& start calling them boss.
we have such sick, twisted degenerates
calling the shots IN THE Game.
You people are beyond help.

Return to Toylit
Subscribe in a reader

News Poems coming... here's an explanation in verse

Though poetry's a thoughtful craft
The pay it brings comes from the aft
Of horse-like fiends called editors--
Most spared the wrath of creditors
Because they sought their pay by book
(Like diners who pretend they cook).
They scorn the man who lives by trade,
Preferring loot obtained by raid
Of funds, endowments: lucre's fount.
The rider? No. They're money's mount.



Subscribe in a reader