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Vegetable Heads

One can see the cubed orange lights on the street
Each with an ambulatory head with dressings
Which leak from the solemnity of their stabbed tongues
Each bearing a communion wafer
Each bored by their jester caps
And the only times their mouths open
Is when you’ve gotten sleepy
and their bells ring

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I poked and prodded at this from several unseemly angles,
sniffed it,
trod in it,
tasted it,
even thought about it
and I came away slightly tainted and bemused.

That was your intent all along, wasn't it, you bastard.

cheers,
Jess
Neopoet Managing Directors, with Richard (themoonman)

This one didn't work out too well.

I STILL like it!

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