Drain Bamage

To program
is the greatest joy
a small boy
can know
if he's sufficiently
drain-bamaged.

Somnambulistic Deception

I typed something.
In your sleep.
Without you near.

Necronomicon++

I am the bane to all sane thinking men.
Who ponder my mad ramblings.
Oh Abdul!
Oh Alhazred.
You are pale in my presence.

The Emergent Theory Of Theoretical Existential Existence

To not exist
in a meaningful way
is the height of
all conscious yearnings.

To fold time and
space like so
many theoretical
strings, without
quantum computing
is a joy.

Ah the breeze. Smell
that invisible blue air.
This, my little pat
of butter, is emergent!

Hipsters.

Orange haired
hipsters drinking
purple champagne.

(-nev)

~wibble~ REMIXED

Hehehehehe.
Hahahahahah.
Hohohohohohoho.
wakka-wakka
freeeeeeeoooow!

A wibble?

Wibble.
Wobble.
BUBBLE-BOBBLE!

Iced Coffee

Drowning.
Drowning in
hot liquid
melting my
body into nothing.
I am but a
lonely ice cube
some fool put
in their coffee.

help

Spread Bad Poetry

If Bad Poetry
were spreadable
like so much jam,
would you spread it?
On TOAST?!?

Butter in a jar!

Butter.
In a jar.
How did it
get there
from far?

Invisible
Pink
Unicorn
Butter
Fairies.

DUH!