Which reminds me of the Christmas where my gift to everyone (we stopped doing real gifts years ago, with my parents preferring a gift we made ourselves-a poem, a song, a skit, etc.) was me in a beret with my bongos reading the lyrics to The Little Boy That Santa Claus Forgot as slam poetry. It was 🔥
i just come check on you cat and it maybe 2025 is a little chaotic. Me & Person already did meditation app 2X + queer rural yoga nidra via the zoom TV on the first friday when it happens
I actually write poetry every week here. Sometimes daily. Wasn’t a thing in my second life, but I was so mad about what happened in the first one the rage carried over. Came back to it here, because I wanted to contribute something to the site.
Comments
The cat
Dreams of chaos
Even without his hat
And I love the hat
I 🐱 think 💡 you 🐱 haz sum visez 🍸🚬‼️ Duz yer hoomin 👩❓👨 knoze 👃bouts this ⁉️
Yerz turly,
Ms. Euphrosyne 🐱
🎶 From your first cigarette to your last dying day
I am a published poet FYI
I actually write poetry every week here. Sometimes daily. Wasn’t a thing in my second life, but I was so mad about what happened in the first one the rage carried over. Came back to it here, because I wanted to contribute something to the site.
Besides snark anyway.
(Sorry it’s Instagram, it’s just too relevant)
https://www.instagram.com/reel/DCuA1dSNztc/?igsh=a2plMWU1ZHBtN3Fo
Calmly sitting with whisky
Enjoying a fag
So cool with his cigarettes.
Slamming out the beat.
🧡