Tulsa Time


And in the organized chaos of being an overachiever, I 'bout fell the fuck off the porch when I gazed upon the eternal glory of my black fucking rock! There it was, sitting in the sunshine, and I sure did like it's sparkle.

The sparkle of my eternal glory that I buckled up my britches, and smack my ass, grabbed a sheet, tied it 'round my neck, just to ensure we all float down town. Way down to krazy town, perched on my porch, being ugly, livin' on Tulsa Time.

I do not know wherever it was there it is but I do know that I no not who delivered the almighty of all fucking rocks. But, I would like to say, "Where the fuck is my goddamn weed eater mutha trucka? And my black fucking rock did not sparkle, yet the one left on my porch has sparkles and specs of gold. I am left to ponder...

Did the gold pig take my rock and upon touching it leave sparkles? Or did the gold fucking dragon piss on it during his flying high above the Land of Larrys long ago?"

"But Bob you did not broadcast the location of my lifted weed eater and as I recall goddamn lawnmower. Where did those wonders, wander off too? And where did the wanderers of walking the streets strap in the strap on and take off to the middle of 26 25 and 1?"

Eternal Glory is gettin the best of me and the best of me is getting glory from bats and blood. Now, wipe those tears, cause there is no crying in bullshit and baseball!!!






© Tabetha Simpson