Parental Advisory

Hear Ye. Hear Ye. Here we propose to posit prose poetry
forming a form of continuous connectivity,
to communicate considerable contemplative reflectivity.

Simply put, we pose this where
prose poetry is what you’ll hear
when wondering where the time went
while reading such rhyme wonderments
as oft are wrought, and revealed thusly,
each whit of wit written Hieronymously.

Stuck Up

I'm stuck up. Hi. Stuck in your ear,
these words reflect an atmosphere 
of 'stuckupness', I guess it's called. 
I'm so stuck up, you'll be appalled 
at all the sticky stuck up stuff 
stuck here upon my sleeve and cuff. 

Like buggers wiped when snot descends, 
my stuckupness often offends. 
I'm stuck up, high, like on a shelf. 
I reach to preach about myself 
in terms that worms can comprehend, 
since worm food soon will be my end. 

To end, I send this rhyme to task; 
stuck on the wall, or up your [...] Ask 
me now just how I knew 
to stick with this till you were through? 

I’m stuck up, that’s how.