frankly, my dear

fill your belly with beer
after beer after beer after beer
your mind will swerve lazily
around all road signs and red lights
steering clear and moving
straight in the direction
of disaster, you’ll throw up the
middle finger and with a slur say
frankly my dear i don’t give a damn
to the world, and when you
wake up the next morning,
that clock will send you a sneaky grin
your head filled with what feels like
nail files dragging across the edges
of bent, cheap paperclips tearing
at the skin of your brain, and Monday
will say it just doesn’t give a damn
as it waits for you and watches you
clean up the bottles and cans
clinking against one another in a trash bag
those empty cans and bottles
probably feel like they had been had
because now they are out on the curb
where you tried to hurl all your other problems
during the weekend, stowed away
at some lame house party
in the suburbs

written by Tiny Fawns for daily prompt: infuse


sometimes my head swims
leisurely, resting on its back
soaking up the warmth of the sun
at times my head treads troubled waters
miserably, mastering the
dead man’s float when i feel like i’m up to
my neck in fears and my is courage undone
like my life has run its boat ashore
no where more to venture to
except for my head to shake out
the water and let my thoughts
dry in the sand


they tell us to wish upon stars
connect the dots
read between lines
give pennies for thoughts
catch fireflies in jars
to eat cheese with wine
and never to throw precious
pearls before swine
follow your heart
choose mind over matter
never walk beneath
any old ladder
full stops at stop signs
red and yellow, kill a fellow
live and let live
don’t make mountains
out of mole hills
kill two birds with one stone
people in glass houses
should never throw stones

the liar & the stones

kill two birds with one stone
but the meaning of his words
were long, long gone – so a
flock overtook his throne
and they watched on,
perched high upon wires
all along they had known
he was the most cowardly liar of all liars
hid his pride behind a single
rock, his tiny ivory tower
always casting the first stone
chasing after bones, crying wolf

written by Tiny Fawns for daily prompt: catapult