quar
he was a mellow fellow.
a new TV show every night,
futon stuffed and comfortable,
the world specifically designed.
the same four albums and
flourescent basement lighting,
occasional pornography
bliss is in consistency.
a ticking alarm clock marks the time,
the only significant change,
as hours pass him by and by
dazed days fading, hazy, all the same.
safe at home on an island inside
a stone sitting stoned—still—not rolling, gathers moss,
and after a certain time has passed
whatever name was there was lost.
he was a mellow fellow
so full of compromises
and an unwavering love for his comfort,
which removed his existence from history.
Courtney Green was tall and mean,
her parents and braces embarrassed her
her thick black hair grew out everywhere
and they say her toenails could cut butter
Phillip Malone was constantly stoned,
smelled like pot in the back of the classroom
everyone said that his brother was dead
when you asked him he'd tell you he killed him
Tammy Loraine, also known as the brain
decided she hated the teacher
she made up a story, said he called her a whore and
the man lost his job the next morning
Mr. Palansky always dressed up so fancy,
wore a suit to his classes each day
but when he went home at night, he would turn out the lights
and put on a costume of Buggs Bunny
Oliver Brandon ate his lunch in the bathroom
and put twinkies in the urinal drain
I ran out of rhymes to put in these lines
one two three four five six gravy train