kermit the blog

Act up
And whether we high or low
We gonna get back up

Like the Dow Jones
Or Nasdaq

Sorta like a thong in an asscrack

I hear echoes of your laughter
In the corners of my mind
While I memorize each detail
Of your intricate design

In your hair
There is a symphony
Your lips
A string quartet
They tell stories of
The Neon Valley street
Where we once met

Now somewhere time pursues us
As we swell in technicolor
But I dwell, in silence,

On
Your
Words

Which
Move
Me
Like
No
Other

We met alone
Forbidden in the city
Running fast
Through time
Like Tubman and John Henry

‘But the time was wrong,’
Illegal aliens moaned,
‘It’s such a pity
That the city’s
Just a danger zone’—-

Atomic blues bombing hearts
(Like Iraqi’s in Babylon)

I remember pretty faces
So severe and lyrical:

I’m talking Amelia Earhart,
Neko Case or Frida Kahlo

All alone,
The way it should be;
They don’t even need a shadow