"TWITTER IS OVER CAPACITY": A Poem by Jim Behrle
Just dump oil all over everything
Everywhere and get it over with
I lost my baby due to penalty kicks.
Hope has turned to cobalt goo
Change we can believe in the way
We believe in unicorns and Jedis.
It's too hot to be a free agent
Each atom is a poem with its
Own spinning agenda, which demands
[Line of poem drowned out by vuvuzelas].
Let me put my poems inside you with
A spatula and we'll ride across the grammar
To a whistle on the mortgage of a field
Speckled with dusky crickets who have
No regard for human life.
It's not Convex Mirror, it's Houseboat Days
And you're the sunburned, bearded captain
Drifting further out away from the cherry
Chocolate harbor.
I tried to climb the ladders but a gorilla
Was throwing barrels at me.
You'll need guide wires, a harness and a team
of Sherpas just to get through the day.
Here we go
The whale reminds us how much we have failed.
Jim Behrle is the world's greatest living poet. He would be on Twitter but that shit is down. Again.








Donkey Kong presents an interesting problem: Is it '80s nostalgia via the game Donkey Kong? Or, rather, '90s nostalgia via the game Donkey Kong Country? Either way, I don't really play video games anymore, but I was upset to hear they're remaking GoldenEye with Daniel Craig nonetheless.
I AM ABOUT TO PRESENT TO YOU THE BEST IDEA EVER: It's getting really close to too late to do this (I first 'concepted' this in the early 90's). Have a Bond villain who is psychotic or demented or whatever that really believes he is Bond. So when they have scenes together, they are doing the same shtick, dress, etc. Here's the kicker: the villain is played by Sean Connery.
YOUR WELCOME.
#BLOGGED AS REPLY
Make it Sir Roger Moore and you're on.
#OH HELLO IF YOU'D LIKE TO READ MY BLOG IT IS IN THE REPLIES TO NIC'S BLOG
Love this
PHOTO IS BETTER THAN POME
@Jim: I love, love, love you so much.
There's a lot of me to love! 220 pounds! Coming at ya!
That's a big hunk of burning, poetic, manly love right there!
LAMENT OF TWITTER BIRDIES
We couldn't save the failed whale
So we towed him out to sea,
To rot real calm and peacefully
Wee wee wee wee wee.
This made my week
This made me complete.
This made my month
Doctors agree! This poems cures.
My rash cleared up and my vapours subsided by the fifth line.
soda out my nose,
falling off of my aeron,
rolls on floor laughing
"Here come pieces of… my God…"
It's the good oldfashioned kind of poem that you go home humming to yourself.