Emoetry

From the archives of TiPWiki, the unofficial Duke TIP Wiki
Jump to: navigation, search

Movies Sometimes I go to movies to watch people cry I laugh when characters die I throw Junior Mints at old women When people spill their popcorn and coke, I crawl through the cushiony, sticky labyrinth of seats and feast on their waste and nibble on their feet.


Life, Pt. 2 My life is like a nude beach but not like in Costa Rica or Hawaii or Spain with tan men with waxed bellies and 34B's, no my life is a beach in Pennsylvania behind a giant salami factory only fat naked men live here they shake their buns (shlongs) in the cold wind as the salami factory pumps poisonous meat gas into the air that is my soul.


Fruit Salad In a forest of heartlessness, where are the apples that will fill my fruit salad of emotion? 2 pears of jealousy 1 banana of exasperation 3 mangoes of hatred and half a pineapple of unrequited love.


Bottle The bottle of my life once held a strawberry-banana-kiwi smoothie but now it is empty but for the flavorless and murderous dregs of mango-cherry-coconut-watermelon and the film of chewing tobacco from Phyllis, the one who drank the smoothie and drove taxis until she was 90 then was outsourced to her grave.


Voice Every time a word is uttered into the ice cold, hard air like water from my chapped, bleeding lips by my tongue, shriveled like a giant pink worm only to emerge into the sunlight which burns my white flesh like the roast beef of a succulent pig on a rotisserie and be squashed by the flashing Pokemon Skechers of a small child holding a red balloon.

Therefore silence is golden and gold is black.


You You are a snow monkey with eyes like fiery white jelly that burns your tongue on the bagel of HELL. You are the bastard child of the underworld who sucks on the teet of the devil which produces the acid of your soul, lightly flavored with strawberry and a hint of thyme that melts in your mouth like the cotton candy of the traveling fair with a bearded lady who loves the ringmaster with a burning black passion of the wolves who play Jenga in the moonlight of your SOUL.


Dialogue of the Damned (read by 2 people) My breakfast reeks of the grave My Lucky Charms with 20% less sugar and eight essential vitamins and minerals weighs me down like a dumbbell in a river My chocolate chip waffle drenched in syrup of sadness

I choke on a chocolate bar with nuts nuts forged from iron heartbreak chocolate mixed with skim milk milk skimmed of all happiness

Pants which constrict my lets like snakes

My soul has been eaten by a horse and defecated onto a serving platter for a family-style dinner

I turn the key to a locked box full of cold spaghetti and wet socks like my mother used to feed me in place of breast milk when I was a screaming baby

I have to meet my woman at 4:50 and by woman I mean death.