This experiment used to be so META, man! And now, due to the silly fact that I'll be submitting 5 poems and various other info to the editors @ Write Bloody Publishing, I feel compelled to scrap the META en lieu of attempting to impress the pants off strangers. GAWD(!!!)...What the hell shat I type aboot? (No, no...just continue typing "out-loud" thoughts...) (SIGH!)
Well, I guess where I once championed isolation, I now need to find some friends. DOOD! Where's that short brick partition on which to rest my tired elbows? Where's my friend with the security blanket? Where's my wannabe pilot dog? Where's my signature shirt?!? DooD! I guess that center field line drive scared it right off me...
Center Field...is that where my focus should now be placed? Shat I now pander to business savvy, Chai double latte, caramel drizzled, Madison Ave, remember to drink responsibly, now you too can take advantage of this amazing, like, offer or something?
I've been deflated, man. I'm no longer an option for those seeking relief from the rigid bed of the earth. Conformity has bound/gagged me and set fire ants on my head.
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