Tuesday, March 18, 2014


All things come in threes.
Sometimes good things
Sometimes not.

Holy food trilogy
Perfect green
Cilantro avocado lime
Gas station taco rock my world.

Celebrity deaths
They always always
Except sometimes
You gotta look up some sort of barely
To make it work.
That weatherman in Ohio
back in the eighties,
he just died.
Dang, son! 
That make three.

Then I thought
Eyes just come in twos
They piped up on that third eye.
All seeing.
Maybe, I said
To be agreeable.

I’d rather have a taco
Than a celebrity
Unless it your momma
Then I’ll eat some cheetopuffs
And tell you how
with my mind eye
So your momma can live.


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