Quoted in the Grove:
Things are not what they appear to be; nor are they otherwise.
~Lankavatara Sutra
There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.
~William Shakespeare
What you doin’ on your back? What you doin’ on your back? You should be dancin’, yeah…
~Bee Gees
~~
Announcements:
The words for this week’s Prewritten are: invigorate, rejuvenate
~
Prewritten (May 14): fellatio; sidearm
BarTalk: Sidearm Blues (qif)
His name was Horatio
Died alone on the patio
Balls to bone a 2:1 ratio
News came over the radio
Shot inflagrante fellatio
~
Greymane: Flaccid Finance (qif)
He took a long ride to the dark side of town looking for curbside romance
She flaunted her fishnets while flagging him down but she wanted the cash in advance
He said she could have any money she found in the folds of his cavernous pants
She got a bit mad when she saw that the clown was a victim of flaccid finance
He swore he would pay with funds hidden away in the bottom of one of his shoes
So she went all the way with a wanton display that his urgency could not refuse
Fellating her way through a wicked buffet with a feast of enticing taboos
His sidearm went off and the girl and the cop were featured on national news
~
Whitefeather: Untitled (qif)
With tense fists gripping
sidearms to steady his stance
her silky warm lips
two silhouettes in the dark
He cums for fellatio
~
Piffin: “Head Full Of Bees” (qif)
Got a head full of bees
Got a heart like a drum
Got myself on my knees
Got a bottle of rum
Got a list of the things
That I shouldn’t have done
Got a load for my lingo
Got my lips on a gun
Might be going out a coward
But I’m doing it right
Sidearm fellatio
Saturday Night
~
Impromptu (May 14): teem, fecund
Bartalk: not-a-haiku (qif)
the world turns and teems
violent colors and green
spring fecundity
~
Greymane: Vacant (qif)
He’s filled with fecund visions growing distant with each breath
His seasons dry from lack of truth all teemed with dusty death
The winds that blew thru dreams he knew could never come to pass
Would carry him through horrors built on seas of broken glass
The darkness of his empty soul lay vacant in his eyes
While laughing judges execute predictable demise
~
Piffin: “The Writer” (qif)
Fecund in its inception
Moribund in its receipt
My one true dream
With rot did teem
And shuddered at my feet
What glories would I garner
Such stories would I craft
Yet, tales untold,
This island cold,
I’ve had to burn my raft
And feed the flames
With each unfinished draft
~~
Glass Table
Bartalk: Nexus ~ A Collection (Previously Reviewed)
~
Briar Rose Eve: A Favorite Book ~ A Collection (qip)
can i stumble
break free
find somehow
a silly tune
and sing in spite
of flaming notes
dancing on
these shying cheeks
should i not turn
away
when music plays
a song i love
i found a candy
how sweet
and forgot
it
somewhere
where i will not
find again
~
~My Morning Jacket: The Bear
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=poSSje_zd3E
~.~
Wordgrove Post & Review 
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