A Pocketful of Poesy was and is again a Poem-a-Day(-on-Average) Blog! For 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, and now for 2017 and going forward, you may expect to see 365 poems every year, 366 for leap years.

but aren't they all random?

Thursday, May 23, 2024

Why you hate music, now

Why hate you, music? Strooth 
it 'tis, fair fine and no feigned fate
or date, set-to to hate, whenupon
YOUR OWN 1st adult knowing,

which lasted all of sixty seconds
naturally, all the old songs turned
soon to camp mockery, torn apart
electrically in the acoustic thrum of

young blood. Then

only
primary grade and high
school level
derivative

shit

"You loved back then"

No-o-o-o, you did not for
if ever you truly loved
you do and shall love

Still. YOUNG YOUR YOUTH
SCHOOL TUNE ROCKS CROCKS, because
but you
BUT YOU!

Remember the old! Then,
future's promises
dying in fast ash
and iced bile, but soft!

'Tis better by far to near to death,
than to stay young only in beefy
lion's loins and swilling the laughs
of new children, young. TOO
YOUNG ---!! WAY TOO

enough.

Disgusting.

If you don't love today's music
kids? It's because you lost your
soul
pretending
back then all the way up to now

to be "original." How

novel
of you to think. Only the music
you heard 1st and ran to go tell
on mom
or dad

sucked.

Nope. ALL your Beatles are belong
to Nazi Germanic ass holds
and disfranchised black large
-ly Americans: for real. Amer
-icans who originated rock

and roll. Trust us: U! S! A!

YOU! ASS! AY your taste in music, stank
then STANK WORSE ON HOT!

Icy, now.

The Monkees
were way fVcking
butterier

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