Fried Pickle Franchise

[manic_panic]

Outside on the inside I--
find I’m flying high in my own mind
Peculiar people shimmy in my head
It’s a beautiful day but I’m still in bed
I’ll have my coffee I’m swift as hell
I wanna tell my dyin’ neighbor “Get well, Friend!”
if we dare-speak-again

I’m groovin’ steady I’m ready to ride
Incognegro but I don’t need to hide
I just like
the disguise

Chicken bones dancin’ hot Country-Fried
Chicken noodle got a date with my wife
She never saw the light
‘cause she had no eyes!

Peanut butter soup, fried pickled dish
Hard to settle with hot tuna fish
a wombat roasted on the side, Hershey’s Kiss,
sounds delicious ‘cause I skipped breakfast time!

Fried pickle franchise in the sky
Creampuff clouds start to sigh
Stomach’s full I don’t feel the same
I hope I--
grow wings and fly
through the honey mustard rain!

 

[stonerfromohio]

This is a good ol' southern cookin kind of poem... I enjoyed this strayed from the normal themes discussed here... another good one

 

[TwisteTexan]

I damn sure enjoyed that...thanks!