Welcome to Popular Ink's INDELIBLE KITCHEN.

Now get the hell out!

Really, we would love to have you stay but we would feel rude about that as we have left. As in gone, defunct, kaput. We aren't here anymore. Sometimes, when it's late and we are worried about dying, we do believe in reincarnation. So, maybe we will live again. We'll let you know if that happens.


Sanguinistas! by Jay Snodgrass

I’m through bringing you these little vials.

In your vestment armor I envision a cleansing of the meat board.

Still no hammer can straighten the victory loom.

Saddle your viewfinder with the trembling of weaving.

You ought not prune your Hydrangea with the broadsword of Lo-angrick!

Swing me to the myriad. I have enlargened the hoop straddle

with ingots of Thule.

Gorge wedded to the throng toggle, I, steeple grouched the heathens,

but with flowers, sweet purple Pansies, Goth-weaver.

I’m journeying to the Mall of your choice in order

register thee, my cellular to the battle axe. such

a pretty compliment to the broken tooth,

also the queenly crown, her smooth crash:

Nordrun the cruise liner wishes to bury you.


Anonymous said...

ah, the queenly crown. it's mine.

Anonymous said...

Pruning with a broadsword is so predictable.