The Art of Tetman Callis

Some of the stories and poems may be inappropriate for persons under 16

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Spit

September 26th, 2013 · 5 Comments

High over the lake
on autumn afternoons
gulls flutter
flutter?
They fly in lackadaisical
manner, not in any
formations or groups

The angels this afternoon
have been having a party
and threw confetti

Gulls flutter and soar
and glide above the lake
sidelighted by the afternoon
sun, lifted by the breeze

What do angels eat
at their gatherings?
What do they barbecue?
What do they roast
on a spit?

Tags: Oniontown · Poems · Words

5 responses so far ↓

  • 1 Averil // Sep 26, 2013 at 4:03 pm

    Barbequed Beelzebub.

  • 2 Tetman Callis // Sep 26, 2013 at 4:08 pm

    they wash it down with saints’ tears ale

  • 3 Chris Rice // Sep 26, 2013 at 8:32 pm

    And burn bejesus.

  • 4 Chris Rice // Sep 26, 2013 at 8:33 pm

    I meant to write burp bejesus.

  • 5 admin // Sep 27, 2013 at 8:54 am

    loudly, in competition (it’s a sky thing, we call it thunder)

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