Sunday, February 13, 2011

Scrap Paper Poetry


The scent of rat office equals p.
We then eat 991 tacos.
Love, aggression,
by an evening port O and P plied the rocks.

The value of land and port.
The hours worked.
Stand nations of scent!
Ours is the coffee.


This is what I did in relief society today.
I am particularly fond of the last two lines. I like to see it as a call to revolution.
In fact, if you read it right--that's what the entire poem is about. Very appropriate considering current events in Egypt.
Down with the rat office! 

1 comment:

Harris and Kathleen said...

this is fabulous. i love, "we than eat 991 tacos" but the last two lines are also my favorite.