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Tag: poetry

Wasn’t it William Congreve, who in 1697 said, “Hell hath no fury like 1992 scorned”? He was a prolific and prophetic poet, and most of his later work still survives above urinals all over Branson, Missouri.

2019/12/132019/12/13 jarodkintz1Leave a comment

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I’ll be your Mozart, if you’ll be my gang of wolves. If you can do that, I’ll also be your Wolfgang.

2019/12/072019/12/07 jarodkintz1Leave a comment

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You can string lovely words together to make someone fall in love with you, but don’t string them along.

2019/10/312019/10/31 jarodkintz1Leave a comment

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You can live life twice, when you find your soul mate, because you feel what she feels, and her heart pumps your veins with love.

2019/09/052019/09/05 jarodkintz1Leave a comment

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The heart is a magical vessel, because the more love you pour out, the more love you have to pour out, and right now I’m offering FREE refills!

2019/09/042019/09/04 jarodkintz1Leave a comment

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Or perhaps your love has inspired my stone-heart to grow into a tree that’s full of green life.

2019/09/022019/09/02 jarodkintz1Leave a comment

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If I could live anywhere, I’d live here, in this moment, with you.

2019/09/022019/09/02 jarodkintz1Leave a comment

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Sometimes I stand outside in the summer breeze and close my eyes, imagining it’s your warm breath rushing over my skin, and in these moments I am clothed in Love, which never goes out of style.

2019/09/022019/09/02 jarodkintz1Leave a comment

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I once planted a garden of love in my heart, of which the flowers looked like roses mixed with butterflies, and I’m sad my feelings for you evaporated, because I could easily sell bouquets of our romance for $19.95.

2019/07/212019/07/21 jarodkintz1Leave a comment

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As Masters of The Fondle, TSA agents are so romantic that if they weren’t getting paid to grope travelers, they’d all probably be sitting at home writing Love Poetry in the style of Allen Ginsberg, that rambler for NAMBLA.

2019/01/292019/01/29 jarodkintz1Leave a comment

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  • Wasn’t it William Congreve, who in 1697 said, “Hell hath no fury like 1992 scorned”? He was a prolific and prophetic poet, and most of his later work still survives above urinals all over Branson, Missouri.
  • I once had a dream about what Branson, Missouri dreams about, and I don’t know which was freakier, the town itself or the year 1991.
  • I have never made a cashier cry, but I have gotten into a shouting match with one, because he counted up 11 items to ring up, and he was in the 10 items or less line, but one product I was buying was Buy One, Get One FREE, so I argued Item 11 should be thought of as invisible.
  • Just hang up the landline phone, Branson. 1991 died in 1992, though it took a few years for most people to realize it was never coming back.
  • I Voted stickers are passed out as if to symbolize the true argument, which is, “My dog shit is better than your dog shit!” That’s step one to have shit on your shoes every four years.
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