Tuesday, December 17, 2013

Queen of France

The hatchet of grief

A fess-up from my husband's childhood there... 

As the bunnies die out in the sallows of deaths dream,
the hatchetman is there destroying their housing scene.

In the shortly, on the thereafter,

maybe too soon,
wonders on..
are they still there?

and then the chick houses from before,
hatchetman destroyed some more.

Not sure about the attraction here,

are the bunnies still in there?

Who did I marry?
2 scared as me, frighted-in,
children wronged, don't you see.

glint raised with ax handlin goin on?
what a fortune to me ,
found another, who had the get... its the shining' of met.

It wasn't chicks,
it was a doghouse, a doghouse,
hurry up spit it out,

the little dog is for sure gone?
fear torture times 2.
ruining my poetry,
their aggressive wonderation stew.

Puts me in the pot on the with,
little bunnies, and a little dog,
maybe even a house vengeout on a tiny frog.

Closest fear-match I could find?
marriage in the new... on the find out later.

Cool, it was your daddy too?
No way, yours is far worse,
too close to animals being there,
mean bastard, fear torture times 2.

Little children, learn it,
life is completely unfair..
witness supporters of hell
to watch heaven rise there.