Hamlet Off-Stage: Snail Peels Off (D. C. Berry Poem)
For quick mental hygiene, the snail's my white mobile clinic, Dr. Hoodoo inside. Seriously. The snail's my man. He's shy, ...
For quick mental hygiene, the snail's my white mobile clinic, Dr. Hoodoo inside. Seriously. The snail's my man. He's shy, ...
"Let the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be acceptable in Thy sight." Whoever "Thy" is, ...
Ophelia claims we're dead and gives me back all my Frank Zappa and the Mothers albums. I nearly claw out ...
Mel Gibson's Hamlet stinks -- doll Mel. Wind up Mel and Mel's eyes glaze into porcelain, blue gulfs of earnestness, ...
Our mascot lives low, a baby alligator. She's our happy-and-sad mask all at once, Mona Lisa her name. She's my ...
Neutrinos do zip but swap back and forth into each other, much like Rosypoop and Guildendoo do. For years it ...
Ophelia puked hourly dawn till dusk, retching mucous slobber, then spewing air. Scum that I am, I never stopped thinking ...
Laertes has groupies, proof he has taste, has cool. Wears skate-board clothes: elephant pants, the crotch snagging his knees, tent-size ...
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