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  • Spinning Swiftly

    From Terry Stomp@21:1/5 to All on Fri Jul 2 14:23:16 2021
    Spinning Swiftly

    Sprained ankle
    stumbled
    over the tracks.

    Dark demon
    in a 24 ounce tin.

    She lifts her kickers
    tomorrow's raging
    headache
    is all that remains.

    Murrowed gill people
    on the lake shore
    at backwater
    Goat Rock Damn.

    Without any special
    dispensation
    by the bog
    still running from the Mob.

    All these nights
    of nothing
    but
    undercover dollars.

    It was sold
    down the line
    awaiting my soul
    looking for a number
    or nookie.

    Forever to prey
    pray
    to the gods of rock and roll.

    Waiting
    wait in silence
    the other old man
    is dying.

    By General Zod

    --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05
    * Origin: fsxNet Usenet Gateway (21:1/5)
  • From George J. Dance@21:1/5 to Terry Stomp on Sat Jul 3 09:29:40 2021
    On Friday, July 2, 2021 at 5:23:17 PM UTC-4, Terry Stomp wrote:
    Spinning Swiftly

    Sprained ankle
    stumbled
    over the tracks.

    Dark demon
    in a 24 ounce tin.

    She lifts her kickers
    tomorrow's raging
    headache
    is all that remains.

    Murrowed gill people
    on the lake shore
    at backwater
    Goat Rock Damn.

    Without any special
    dispensation
    by the bog
    still running from the Mob.

    All these nights
    of nothing
    but
    undercover dollars.

    It was sold
    down the line
    awaiting my soul
    looking for a number
    or nookie.

    Forever to prey
    pray
    to the gods of rock and roll.

    Waiting
    wait in silence
    the other old man
    is dying.

    By General Zod

    Good to see your poetry here, too, sir. Now all we need is some readers ...

    --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05
    * Origin: fsxNet Usenet Gateway (21:1/5)
  • From George J. Dance@21:1/5 to Terry Stomp on Sat Jul 3 09:28:55 2021
    On Friday, July 2, 2021 at 5:23:17 PM UTC-4, Terry Stomp wrote:
    Spinning Swiftly

    Sprained ankle
    stumbled
    over the tracks.

    Dark demon
    in a 24 ounce tin.

    She lifts her kickers
    tomorrow's raging
    headache
    is all that remains.

    Murrowed gill people
    on the lake shore
    at backwater
    Goat Rock Damn.

    Without any special
    dispensation
    by the bog
    still running from the Mob.

    All these nights
    of nothing
    but
    undercover dollars.

    It was sold
    down the line
    awaiting my soul
    looking for a number
    or nookie.

    Forever to prey
    pray
    to the gods of rock and roll.

    Waiting
    wait in silence
    the other old man
    is dying.

    By General Zod

    --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05
    * Origin: fsxNet Usenet Gateway (21:1/5)
  • From Will Dockery@21:1/5 to George J. Dance on Tue Jul 6 02:52:02 2021
    On Saturday, July 3, 2021 at 12:29:41 PM UTC-4, George J. Dance wrote:
    On Friday, July 2, 2021 at 5:23:17 PM UTC-4, Terry Stomp wrote:

    Spinning Swiftly

    Sprained ankle
    stumbled
    over the tracks.

    Dark demon
    in a 24 ounce tin.

    She lifts her kickers
    tomorrow's raging
    headache
    is all that remains.

    Murrowed gill people
    on the lake shore
    at backwater
    Goat Rock Damn.

    Without any special
    dispensation
    by the bog
    still running from the Mob.

    All these nights
    of nothing
    but
    undercover dollars.

    It was sold
    down the line
    awaiting my soul
    looking for a number
    or nookie.

    Forever to prey
    pray
    to the gods of rock and roll.

    Waiting
    wait in silence
    the other old man
    is dying.

    By General Zod

    Good to see your poetry here, too, sir. Now all we need is some readers ...

    A little interaction between the posters here would help.

    :)

    --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05
    * Origin: fsxNet Usenet Gateway (21:1/5)
  • From Paul Vicious@21:1/5 to George J. Dance on Wed Jul 7 15:15:51 2021
    On Saturday, July 3, 2021 at 9:29:41 AM UTC-7, George J. Dance wrote:
    On Friday, July 2, 2021 at 5:23:17 PM UTC-4, Terry Stomp wrote:
    Spinning Swiftly

    Sprained ankle
    stumbled
    over the tracks.

    Dark demon
    in a 24 ounce tin.

    She lifts her kickers
    tomorrow's raging
    headache
    is all that remains.

    Murrowed gill people
    on the lake shore
    at backwater
    Goat Rock Damn.

    Without any special
    dispensation
    by the bog
    still running from the Mob.

    All these nights
    of nothing
    but
    undercover dollars.

    It was sold
    down the line
    awaiting my soul
    looking for a number
    or nookie.

    Forever to prey
    pray
    to the gods of rock and roll.

    Waiting
    wait in silence
    the other old man
    is dying.

    By General Zod
    Good to see your poetry here, too, sir. Now all we need is some readers ...


    Indeed...!

    --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05
    * Origin: fsxNet Usenet Gateway (21:1/5)