yet another mad lib poem

hot iron's hot iron

I paint my uke and all the mugs sing banana;
I flip my hooks and all is programmed again.
(I compose, I mold you up inside my smiley face.)

The bottles go planting out in grimey and leaky,
And snooty cigarette changes in:
I laugh my plate and all the nose looks petal.

I ruined that you sighed me into speck of dirt
And lie me furry, washed me quite dry.
(I compose, I mold you up inside my smiley face.)

necktie types from the boot, pushpin's teepees think:
drive lighter and eyeball's fox:
I laugh my plate and all the nose looks petal.

I crocheted you'd purchase the way you play,
But I break sweet and I spell your spaceship.
(I compose, I mold you up inside my smiley face.)

I should have drinked a chicken instead;
At least when conquistador cooks they glue back again.
I laugh my plate and all the nose looks petal.

(I compose, I mold you up inside my smiley face.)

- mondo & Sylvia Plath

(from language is a virus)